


Baton Rouge (3/8)

by thebasement_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-12-31
Updated: 1999-12-31
Packaged: 2018-11-20 21:41:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 53,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11343672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist
Summary: Another trip for Skinner and Mulder to the hot South. A VCS case. A hotel in Baton Rouge. A coming out of sorts. Enjoy!





	Baton Rouge (3/8)

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

 

Baton Rouge by frogdoggie - Part 1

"NO! NO! Alex you fucker, let her go! Let her...Sculleeee!"

"Mulder, wake up! Fox, come on."

"Sculleee!"

"Fox, I'm here. It's Walter."

"Wwwhat? Walter?"

"Yeah, you were having a nightmare. You ok, babe?" Walter asks as I open my eyes and stare blearily into his.

"Uh, Jesus."

"Hang on man. Let me hold you." Walter whispers, gathering me close. I'm still shaking. The nightmare is receding but I can just remember some of it. Krycek, Scully, lights, Starlight Mountain. God. Another abduction scenario to join the many I already dream about. Wonderful.

"I'm sorry," I mumble against his chest.

"Hey, it's ok. I've been there. You've been lucky enough not to have seen one of my Nam nightmares yet," he murmurs against my hair. 

"What was I yelling?" I ask quietly.

"You were screaming for Scully. And something about Alex. I assumed you meant Alex Krycek."

"I was dreaming about Scully's abduction."

"I pretty much assumed that too. You want a glass of water or something?"

"Water would be great, yeah, thanks," I reply, swallowing hard. Walter pulls back and reaches for his glasses where they lie on the night stand. He puts them on and then clicks on the night stand lamp. 

"Be right back," he whispers, caressing my shoulder. He gets up and heads into the master bathroom.

I lie back and put an arm over my eyes. God. I'm embarrassed and depressed over having a nightmare in front of Walter. I haven't had one when I've been with him since Baton Rouge. Yelling for Scully while I'm in bed with Walter is one thing. But Alex! Damn it. His parting words to me after I was shot certainly proved to be prophetic didn't they? It figures. I just can't escape that fuck rag. But you know for a very short time we were simpatico. And yeah, my condemnation notwithstanding - he was a fantastic lover. But shit, I have to stop thinking about him. Otherwise the rat bastard will be slinking into my dreams every night.

Walter comes back in with a glass of water and a couple of Tylenol 

"Here take these too - just in case your stomach's gonna bother you later."

"Ok, thanks," I take the pills and water.

"You want to talk about the dream some more?" he asks quietly. 

I down the pills and water, putting the glass on the night stand. 

"Not really. I'd like to try to get back to sleep."

He looks down slightly and frowns.

"What?" I ask looking up into his downturned face.

"Nothing. It's ok. Go back to sleep," he takes off his glasses and sets them on the night stand again. The light goes off.

"All right, I'll talk about it. What do you want me to say?" I can't keep the annoyance out of my voice. His next words make me want to crawl in a hole and die.

"I want you to say you love and trust me enough to tell me about Alex Krycek."

Crap.

"Oh, Walter..." I move to touch his cheek.

He moves his head away slightly and looks seriously into my face. 

"I mean, it Fox. You've talked in your sleep a couple of times. I've never...I haven't mentioned it because I've respected your request about not discussing your former...lovers, but..."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Your nocturnal ramblings haven't left much to the imagination."

I sit up and prop myself back against the headboard. So does Walter. We stare off into space for a few moments. I sigh and break the silence once I have my thoughts in order.

"Ok. You're right. We were lovers. Very briefly. His betrayal was so painful to me I can barely talk about him today -except obviously when my subconscious has free rein," I smile weakly. "I hope you realize I feel nothing for him any longer, Walter. I mean nothing but burning hatred. I'd like to see him dead most of the time. I know that sounds...well it doesn't sound very sane, or big of me but... 

"Mulder, I don't blame you. After what he did to you and Scully too for that matter I can understand why you'd hate him. But look. I can't say I'm enthused to hear you were fucking Alex Krycek."

"Walter, it's over. Come on, that psychotic prick is out of the picture..."

"Except when he wants to make an appearance during drug busts in Georgetown."

I shrug, "That was his choice. I didn't ask for his help. You can't be jealous of him? I'm not lying to you."

"I realize that Fox. I'm not trying to say I'm jealous. Nothing like that at all. I was just concerned that...well...that he was trying to make contact with you - to come back into your life in order to hurt you again in some way. I needed to know for sure if you'd had a relationship with him so I could gauge just how much of a threat he might be to you."

I rub his arm with affection, "I appreciate that, Walter. But, for some reason I don't think Alex has revenge on his mind. He has his own agenda but...I don't know really. I need to find out. In time I will. Maybe we can find out together."

He nods quietly and takes my hand. He pins my eyes.

"If he ever tries to come after you...I'll kill him myself," he whispers.

"Well, you'll probably have to get in line. I think Scully has a bullet with his name on it too."

"Shit, I bet," he replies grimly.

"Listen, Walter. I...want to tell you that...I...God, I love you so much."

"Come here," he replies, taking me into his arms.

We sink down together and he winds himself around me, holding me close. I start to choke up. Tears run down my cheeks.

"I'm sorry. Shit. I hate blubbering like this in front of you. Christ. You have to think I'm some kind of weenie assed..."

"Shhhh," he soothes, his hands running over my back, "it's all right. Let it out. There's no shame in crying. I should learn to do it more often. Shit. Maybe I can't though. I did so much of it in the MASH unit in Nam, and in the VA hospital that...well, never mind. Just rest, babe. Go to sleep. I'll hold you here until you drop off if you want."

I nod into his chest and as he rocks me gently, I fall asleep. 

xXx

December 24, Christmas Eve  
Crossroads, Maine

Morning light filters in through my closed eyelids. I struggle through the stickiness to open them. When I finally succeed I see Walter, propped up on one elbow, staring at me.

"Morning," he says a little embarrassed.

"What time is it?" I ask glancing at the clock. I can't quite see it because Walter is blocking my view.

"7."

I smile and shift over to lie flat, "Do you usually make a habit of watching me sleep."

He reaches forward and brushes my close cropped hair.

"Sometimes. Does it bother you?"

"No way. If you can stomach the view, why should I complain," I chuckle, rolling my tongue inside my mouth. Ugh. I need some Scope big time.

"Speaking of stomachs - how is yours doing this morning?"

"A little stiff. But no regrets, believe me," I grin at him. He smiles back and touches my face.

"Last night was the best," he replies quietly.

"For me too, lover," I take his hand and kiss his fingers.

"Listen, I need to work out this morning. Do you want to go for a run - or is your stomach too sore?"

"I think a run might help. I'm really not sore - just tight. If we take it easy I should be fine."

"Ok, I can join you if you'd like. I guess we can use the beach front. It's early enough."

"I'd like, big guy. Let's go."

After our run we come back and Walter does some calisthenics. I spot for him. I can't believe how many sit-ups this guy does. The cross over push-ups are hard to watch too. God! Well he's in great shape for his age. At this rate, he'll stay that way. No pain no gain I guess. It's a kick to watch him work those glorious muscles. To see him sweat.

We shower, and in a fit of Christmas eve neatness shave as well. Both of us throw on our older jeans and sweatshirts though. We need to move the tree inside and I know it's going to be a bit of a messy job. Needles and sap of course. But breakfast calls first.

"How hungry are you?" Walter asks, his head in the fridge.

"I've got some bagels and cream cheese in there. Melon too because I know you like it. That should be fine."

"You want the bagels toasted?"

"Yeah, that would be good."

"Ok," he replies as he starts to pull the food out of the fridge. 

I'm making the coffee as he continues to prepare the bagels and cream cheese. As he slices up the melon I glance out the small kitchen window over the sink.

"Hey, it's snowing!"

"Oh yeah?" he turns to look, his brow furrowing.

The flakes are just starting to come down. They're light and fluffy. Really picturesque.

"Looks like we may have a white Christmas," I smile into his face. He looks concerned for a moment but then smiles back and turns to continue cutting the fruit.

"Yeah, a little snow would be nice," he replies.

I shrug off his momentary look of concern. Maybe he was worried about a blizzard making it hard to drive back after the holiday. But this type of snow won't amount to much. So, I guess he realized that too.

"You want some milk?" he asks, as he pours himself a glass.

"Sure."

We eat our meal in companionable silence for a while. Walter toys with the remaining fortune cookie I didn't toss out last night.

"You gonna open this?" he asks speculatively.

"Uh, no," I grimace.

"Shit, sorry," he nods, putting the cellophane wrapped cookie next to the salt and pepper shakers.

"S'ok," I don't want to think about those blasted fortunes again. Walter realizes it and changes the subject.

"Mulder?"

"Yeah."

"Did your family eat the meal on Christmas eve or Christmas day?" 

"Day. Why?"

He smiles, "Just curious. I thought we'd stick with your tradition. But my family ate it on the day too. So, that works out fine."

"Yeah, we can do the tree today and rest up so we can gorge tomorrow."

He laughs, "No kidding. You should see how much stuff to eat I brought up here. I hope we don't fall asleep afterwards."

"Well, I thought of that one - I bought some video tapes just in case."

"What kind?" Walter arches an eyebrow.

"No, not that kind. I left *Daryl does Dallas* at home. I've got some taste, Walter."

"Ok. So, what did you bring?"

"Frohike loaned me a bunch of his Avengers tapes - you know Mrs. Peel, we're needed?"

"Oh, well those aren't too bad."

"And...Byers loaned me Dr. No and Goldfinger."

"All right. Now you're talking."

"Thought you might like a little Sean Connery."

"The only decent 007."

"Well, I might argue for George Lazenby."

"Not with me," he mock growls."

"Hey, at least I didn't say Roger Moore."

He laughs and so do I.

Well, are you ready to tackle the tree?" He asks after the laughter subsides.

"Let's do it big man."

Tackle ends up to be a good description. The damn spruce seems to have a life of it's own. We make an attempt to drag it in from the back porch and end up cursing. Walter decides to bring in the boxes of decorations first so we could set up the stand.

All the decorations are neatly wrapped, but not in new store packages. They're wrapped like they've been stored in someone's attic. I raise an eyebrow as Walter starts to dig around in one of the boxes.

"Where did you get these ornaments? When you said you had decorations I assumed you bought new..."

"These are my mother's ornaments," he replies avoiding my eyes. 

"You swiped your mother's ornaments?"

"I didn't *swipe* them. I asked her if I could borrow them. I told her I was going to throw caution to the wind and put up a tree this year."

"Well isn't she going to miss them?"

"No. She's spending the holiday at my sister's house with her husband and the grandkids. She's not having her own tree."

"Oh."

Something in his demeanor makes me think he isn't telling me something. He's fussing with several ornaments, paying inordinate attention to their wrapping. His jaw muscle jumps a little and he hasn't been looking at me.

"Walter, what else did you say to your mother when you got the ornaments?"

He sighs and looks at me at last.

"I told her I was seeing someone for Christmas."

"Walter..."

He sets the ornament he's unwrapping carefully on the coffee table and sits down next to it .

"Yeah, I came out to her. It didn't go over too well."

"Oh shit."

"Don't worry, I didn't tell her I was with you. I...I just said I was seeing a man and I would bring him home to meet her...eventually. Look, she...we ended the conversation on a fairly good note. After all...she did give me the ornaments."

"Right," I nod, "and when were you going to tell me this?"

"I know. I should have said something earlier. I was working up to it, I guess," he answers with a terse grimace. He's upset. Of course this is a difficult situation for him. It's still very hard for him to discuss his sexuality. Years of hiding have made it that way. I hope he feels like he can talk to me now though. I want to help him. If he needs my support I can do the best I can to lend an ear. Maybe...maybe even something further if I can get up the guts to help him with his family.

"Look, Walter...if I can help..."

He's silent, looking down for a second. I resume my silent contemplation of him. He looks back up with a nod.

"Ok. But look - uh...I really don't want to talk about this today if you don't mind. It's going to crush the mood big time. Can you understand that, Fox?" he asks quietly.

His deep brown eyes are sad but determined. I can respect his wishes for now. But eventually we'll have to talk about this issue. I know his mother will probably be discrete. But I had no idea he was going to reveal anything to her. I suppose he was tired of hiding. I guess he just got sick of not saying anything to anyone. And you hate to lie to your family. Ask me about that idea. I'm an expert there. Crap.

"It's no problem. But we have to talk about it later, seriously. Whenever you're ready, though Walter. And uh, I guess I can go home with you to meet mama whenever you're comfortable doing that too," I grin a little.

"Thanks, babe. I know we need to talk further. We'll do it." he sighs with relief and we continue to dig through the boxes of ornaments.

Walter finally finds what he's really been looking for in the boxes. The tree skirt. I laugh at that one. My family just used a sheet. Walter has this elaborate crocheted blanket made to look like snowflakes to drape around the tree stand.

"No cracks, asshole, my mother made this thing," he barks as he sets it aside.

"It's lovely, really," I smirk as he glares at me.

Once we have the stand set up and the tree skirt waiting we traipse out and look at the tree again. We can tell by looking at the end that it's going to be difficult getting it into the stand. It always seems like the end of the tree is uneven or there are too many branches. Luckily, Walter finds a saw in the shed out in back of the house and we're able to trim off the excess wood and branches. After the pruning we wrestle the tree into the living room. It fits ok in front of the window seat but what a job getting it into the damn stand. We still have to turn it and finesse the recalcitrant pine into place.

Finally the tree is bolted in and ready for its snowflake skirt. Walter fills the stand with water and some kind of tree preservative he bought. At last he places the blanket carefully around the bottom and then we stand back to admire the effect.

"It does look decorative," I offer amiably, "your mother's pretty talented with the uh..."

"Crocheting. Yeah, she went through her afghan stage about 5 years ago. She's gravitated to needlepoint now."

"Does it seem like it's turned to the full side?"

"Maybe a half turn."

"Thought so."

Once the trees best side is pointed into the room we dive into the boxes full of decorations.

"Are these those blinking lights?" I ask unraveling the first string of multi-colored bulbs.

"Some of each, I think. There should be some fresh replacement bulbs in there too. In case some are burned out."

"Got 'em" I smile, pulling the packages out of the box.

In short order the lights are stretched out on the floor and tested, burned out bulbs replaced and then we string them on the tree. Walter connects all the strands up and plugs the final string into the wall. They come on with a flourish and after a few seconds the flashing ones start to do their thing.

"Very festive!" I nod with pleasure.

"Not bad," Walter rumbles and we head back to the boxes for more ornaments.

The tree is absolutely beautiful once the decorations are festooning it. Walter even brought some of those icicle things which we toss over the branches in artful imitation of real frozen water. The only thing that remains is something to grace the top.

"What about the finishing touch?" I ask quizzically.

Walter is standing, contemplating our handiwork critically, with his best AD face and his hands on his hips.

"Oh, right. Hang on," he nods going back to the boxes of ornaments. He brings out a separate, rectangular box and carries it carefully over, putting it down on the coffee table. He opens it and peels back the cotton and paper inside.

"This is very old," is all he says. I walk over to look down into the box. Inside is probably one of the most exquisitely detailed angel ornaments I've ever seen. Most of Walter's mother's other decorations have been in a Victorian motif. The angel is no exception. The face is breathtaking. Like Rossetti's painting of *Beata Beatrix.*"

"God, Walter. That's gorgeous. It looks like a Rossetti painting." It looks like Scully I think instantly. Same porcelain skin, red hair, lovely red lips and clear blue eyes. My eyes mist up. I fight back the tears."

"It might be. I know it's in the Pre-Raphaelite style. It's been in the family for years, Mulder."

"Your mother must have taken the news better than you thought," I reply in a whisper.

He ducks his head a little and then gruffly asks, "Can you get that straight backed chair so I can put her on top of the tree?"

"Sure," I reply with relief. I use the activity to banish the idea that the dream angel resembles the woman of my dreams.

I steady the chair as he puts the angel on the top most tip of the tree. It fits perfectly and securely in place on the branch. I can tell Walter is bursting with pride over sharing this marvelous decoration with me. I'm really flabbergasted and honored that his mother even deigned to let him bring it with him at all. When we do go down to Pennsylvania to meet Esther I'll have to be on my best behavior for sure.

The entire job finally done, Walter climbs down, and I put the chair back in the corner.

"I think this calls for a brandy," he offers with a brief grin. 

"There you go," I nod still admiring the tree.

He goes into the kitchen to retrieve the two snifters from the drainer where he left them to dry after washing them earlier. He fills them at the liquor cabinet and brings them over to me, handing me one.

"A toast," I say, clinking the glass carefully against his.

"To?"

"To many more Christmas eves together, Walter. Many more just like this one."

"To more Christmas eves," Walter agrees.

xXx

"How's this, Fox?"

"Good. Yeah. Great."

"It is tight back here," Walter nods in affirmation as he runs his hands down lightly over the exit wound scar in my back.

I'm lying on my stomach, in my briefs, upstairs in the King sized bed and Walter is massaging my back muscles very carefully. After we started to sip our brandy downstairs I flinched a little sitting down on the couch. He touched my shoulders and I guess I did seem very tense. The angel must still have been on my mind. Walter growled at me then.

"Upstairs agent," he ordered and I wasn't about to disagree.

Now, his large warm hands knead muscles I realize are still stiff from stress and lack of use. I really do need to get out and run more now and God knows I have to stop angsting over Scully. But I think it is going to be a gradual picking up of the pace and as for Scully - ok, ok, I won't go there. Not right now. This feels too great. The stay in the hospital and enforced inactivity took a lot out of me. And let's face it - I'm not getting any younger either.

"Oh man, that really feels good," I tell him as he moves on up to my lats.

Just as he's working up to my shoulders a cell phone rings.

"That's yours," I grunt as he pushes a little harder.

"Yeah, getting a phone with a higher pitched tone was the smartest thing you've done in a while," he chuckles.

I smack his knee as he gets up, walks across the room and takes his cell off the dresser.

"Skinner," he barks into it.

His face softens just slightly.

"Oh, yes, hello. Uh, can you hang on?" he asks into the phone. He mutes it and turns back to me.

"Uh, this is my ex-wife."

"Sharon?" I ask dumbly. Walter smiles a little at my confused look. I shrug.

"Yeah. She usually calls on the holidays."

I move to get up, "You'll want some privacy then..."

"Hey, it's ok, I can take it downstairs. Cover up and stay warm. I'll be back in a few minutes."

"All right," I smile, rolling over and pulling the sheets and comforter up around my neck. I lie on my back staring up at the ceiling, musing idly.

I find it rather nice that Walter's wife has remained on friendly terms with him. He was right when he said she was a good friend. The divorce was acrimonious at first. Feelings were hurt. There was the incident with the prostitute. Walter's sorry last ditch effort to assert his masculinity as he puts it. Sharon was injured in the car accident. But afterwards they mended things. Now, she makes the attempt to stay in touch, and so does he. I saw him call her once as well, on her birthday.

It must have been hard on both Walter and Sharon during their marriage. Walter realizing he was gay but trying at first not to admit it, to make his wife happy. Then, Walter finally admitting the obvious to himself, Sharon's confusion as the sexual side of their marriage took a nose dive. The thought jars me suddenly as a picture of Scully and my fight in the hotel suite jumps instantly into my mind. Oh shit. Here I go again! But...

Damn it! I know I need to apologize to her. What Walter and I did that night in the hotel was monumentally insensitive. I mean her walking in on us must have been some sight and I know it upset her terribly. I was insensitive too. I mean I tried to turn the whole mistake back on her and that wasn't right either. It's too bad it's taken me this long to admit it. Shit. The damage is done and now I don't know if we can repair it. God, I hope we can.

That night though I know what set me off. Made my blood boil and feel like it was going to explode out my ears. It was the look of disgust on her face. I just lost it. I didn't stop to understand that yeah, she could have been disgusted by what she saw. I mean just because Walter and I were expressing our love for each other I can't expect her to...just because I love Walter and...

God! Why is this bothering me so much? I mean what...Oh hell! What if? What if all these years I've been afraid to admit I'd really just...just rather be with a man. I've always considered myself bisexual. I never thought about who I would eventually settle down with permanently. I mean what if it's Walter? What if what I feel for him is more profound, more deep, truer than what I feel for Scully. I...I can hardly fathom it. Scully and I have been through so much together.

I love her, don't I? I mean I know I feel a deep, spiritual bond with Scully, a deep friendship. And the sex is fantastic. Fulfilling for both of us. At least I think it's great. Shit - if she hasn't been honest with me there then we're in big trouble. I know I've enjoyed it. She's so sensual in bed. She's told me I've given her pleasure. Maybe that's true too. But maybe the sex with Walter is more...intense and fulfilling? God. I know it's mind blowing. I just don't know what to think here.

What if I'm making a big mistake with Scully? What if our relationship really is changing because after all these years we're both starting to realize we've been mistaking a bond of friendship for something else? Maybe just staying close friends and not hopping in the sack would have been a better idea. But the physical attraction was...Oh brother this is one deep problem. A whole can of worms. Oh yeah.

Lord! Maybe the reason Scully's so upset is become deep down she knows I'd rather be with Walter and...damn it! I really do have to talk to her. After the holidays I'm going to force the issue. I have too. This is too much to let hang for much longer. I'll give her a little more time but if she doesn't confront the problem head on by the time I get back to work I'll take the bull by the horns. And I'm going to apologize to her. Big time. I need to take responsibility for offending her that night. All three of us have got to sit down and hash this all out. Just as that thought crosses my mind, I hear Walter's tread on the stairs. Shit. I have to get this stuff out of my head. It's no good agonizing over the relationship when all three parties involved aren't even in the same state. I take my arm away from where I've rested it over my face, and roll over to watch Walter enter the room. I compose myself.

"So, how is Sharon?"

"Oh, she's fine. She's going to Aspen."

"Skiing?"

"Right. Her and the new husband," he replies distractedly. Then he focuses on me again with a little smile, "Where were we?"

"Shoulders," I answer, smiling back.

He walks closer, stops to put the cell phone back down on the dresser, and then moves towards me again. I roll back onto my stomach, and kick the covers aside. He climbs up onto the bed. He straddles my thighs and starts to use some leverage to lean into the massage.

"Is this too hard?"

"No. Feels good."

He continues to knead my muscles in silence. I shut my eyes and let his strong hands work their magic.

"Roll over," he whispers at last. I'm pretty much putty in his hands by this point. He sits next to me and chuckles as I have trouble getting onto my back.

"Don't laugh. You've turned me into mush," I grunt.

"Good," he nods, laying his hands on my right calf. He starts over again with the slow kneading. As he works his way from my calf up to my thigh he looks into my eyes. I lick my lips.

"I'm gonna have some trouble here, big man," I advise as I feel warmth suffuse my groin. My cock starts to stiffen.

"Yeah, well...think of something else. I'd like to finish the massage."

"How about Jana Cassidy?"

"There you go. Just imagine it's her grabbing your thigh. If it has the same effect on you as it did on me, you're gonna wilt like a dead rose."

I laugh as he works his way over to my other calf and then up to my left thigh. Thinking of Jana *Black Widow* Cassidy seems to work too because my cock goes flaccid by the time Walter is straddling my thighs again and reaching my pecs.

Finally he finishes with the front of my body. He gets off my thighs and sits next to me.

"Pull the covers up, Mulder. You don't want to let your muscles get chilled now."

I do as instructed and he lies fully clothed next to me. He tucks the comforter up under my chin.

"Stop fussing, dear."

"Put a cork in it," he growls.

"I won't even go there," I giggle and he chuckles in return. I wiggle a little under the sheets enjoying the attention as he fusses with the covers a bit more. My whole body does feel loose, relaxed, really warm and comfortable.

"How's that feel," Walter asks.

I shut my eyes and stretch a little.

"Sublime. You have a real talent there, Mr. Skinner. A very deft touch."

"Thank you, Mr. Mulder," he replies.

"Are you hungry?" I ask opening my eyes again.

"Yeah. You want to warm up the leftover Chinese?"

"I suppose we could."

"But?"

"Walter, let's go into town. I think it will be ok."

"No."

"Oh come on, cut me some slack. I have to...ok...I have to get Scully a Christmas gift, all right. I didn't buy her anything because I wasn't sure...well you know. But I'm going to err on the side of optimism here."

"So you want to shop?"

"Right. I have a couple of things in mind for her."

He runs his hand over his scalp and shakes his head in bemusement. 

"Ok, Look. If you're so hot to get out of the house and shop I can drive us over to Derry. It's not too far. There are plenty of restaurants and an outlet mall."

"Ooh, bargains. Do they have a book store?"

"Not in the outlet mall but I think there's a Barnes and Noble nearby."

"All right. Then we're in business."

He smiles a little again and then moves to get off the bed. I watch his muscles ripple under the sweatshirt he's wearing. I swallow hard again and beat back the unbridled lust that floods my body like a hot rip tide. I better cool down fast or we'll never make it downstairs to the Ford.

"I'd better change out of these," he stands up and sweeps his body with one hand.

"Yeah, you've got pine sap on your crotch," I laugh.

"Trust you to notice anything that's in proximity to my dick." 

"Your dick is hard to miss."

"Let's not use the words hard and dick in the same sentence here monster boy, or town is the last place I'll be driving you."

I smirk back at him, "I love it when you make dirty innuendoes, honey bunny."

"What was that mister?" he barks as he heads to the closet.

"Nothing sir. I didn't say a thing. Can you toss me my clean jeans, please?"

xXx

 

* * *

 

xXx

It's dark by the time we head back from Derry. Nice town. Very quaint. My shopping trip was totally successful. I wanted to get Scully a new pair of ear rings to make up for a pair she lost on one of our recent cases. I found the perfect pair of replacement ear rings. Gold. Something for the office...well maybe...uh let's just say they're detailed but...different. But I also found a delicate crystal and gold pair shaped like flowers. Orchids. I thought they looked very exotic and lush. Not the thing she can wear to the office but they'll look nice after hours. Dressy. I also got her a copy of Anne Rice's latest *The Vampire Armand*. I know she hasn't read it. I hope to hell she hasn't bought it yet. But we have an unspoken agreement - if there's an Anne Rice at Christmas I buy it for her. Stephen King, I buy it for Margaret Scully. So, there you go.

Walter and I flipped to see who would drive the Explorer back. He's looking out the window, fairly content to be riding shotgun as I drive. I grin. He really loves his cars, even when they're rentals. The SUV handles very well, hugs the road and we travel in quiet contemplation as it eats up the miles.

We arrive back at the house at around 8 PM. Since we ended up eating a fresh seafood lunch in Derry neither one of us is really too hungry. I park the Ford and carry my packages up to the front porch, Walter trailing behind me.

"What are you going to wrap Scully's gifts in Mulder?" he asks as I unlock the front door.

"Aluminum foil."

"You cheap bastard," he barks a laugh.

"Hey, It's a Mulder tradition. I wrap all my gifts in aluminum foil."

He's still chuckling as I swing the door open and we go in.

"Ok, whatever you say, guy," he shakes his head as he takes his coat off and puts it in the closet. I follow suit, setting the bag with Scully's gifts down on the closet floor.

"I gotta take a bathroom break," Walter nods towards the downstairs can.

"All right. I'll go in and plug in the tree."

"Great," he smiles, "I'll start the fire when I get in there," he adds, heading back into the house. After I plug the tree in I go upstairs to the master bathroom. As I'm emptying my own bladder I remember my gift for Walter. I hurry to get done, zip up and go to my suitcase to grab the box. I rush back downstairs and place it carefully under the tree. Then I flop down on the couch and try to look as nonchalant as possible as I hear Walter coming back into the living room.

"You want coffee?" he asks.

"Nah, too close to bed. How about some more of that brandy?"

"Sure."

"Sit down, I'll get it," I volunteer making sure I steer him so he can see under the tree. He raises an eyebrow as I take his arms and shift him onto the couch. The aluminum foil wrapped package comes directly into his eyesight as I turn to go for the brandy and snifters.

I can hear him clear his throat slightly and then I can hear him shift forward to look at the gift. I almost laugh aloud. I mean who the heck does he think it's for? I hear him get up, retrieve it and sit back down. When I turn with the two snifters filled with brandy he's just staring down at the box.

"Mulder tradition?" he asks quietly fingering the aluminum foil. 

"Exactly. Open it," I reply putting the glasses down on the coffee table.

"Fox..."

"Open it, lover," I whisper. He doesn't look up but instead opens the box carefully, placing the Reynolds product down on the coffee table like it's gold and not tawdry aluminum. He lifts the lid and peers inside. He takes out the gift and places the box down on the coffee table. He sits unmoving.

"It's uh, a necklace," I stammer, I can see the color coming up on his ears.

"I see that. Fox...you...you shouldn't have..." he stops and holds the necklace up in one large hand.

"I figured you could wear something like that under your t-shirt and it wouldn't show," I add as he shakes his head.

"This is...too much," he starts to object but then grows silent again as he admires the jewelry.

I stare at the necklace as the tree lights glint off it. I found it when I first got up here in a little jewelry shop on the main street of Crossroads. It's a gold medallion on a gold chain. Not too large but masculine looking. There's a cross engraved on one side of the medallion. I wanted to give something to Walter to let him know I respect his faith and that he means so much to me I'd never criticize his beliefs again. I know how much Scully values her cross. I thought it fitting that Walter have one to value as well.

He turns it over in his fingers. His face softens.

"It's engraved on the back," I answer his raised eyebrow. For the first time ever I see Walter Skinner's lower lip tremble. He's barely holding back his emotion. I feel the tears forming in the back of my throat.

"I can tell it's Gaelic. What does it say?" he asks, his voice gruff with his own unshed tears.

"It's ancient Gaelic as a matter-of-fact. It says *Gaol, Dilseachd, Cairdeas*. Translated that means, *Love, Loyalty, Friendship*. Would you like me to put the necklace on for you?" I add hopefully.

"Yes," he husks, swallowing hard.

He stands up.

"Turn around."

I can see the tears leaking a bit now. He's crying but trying to cover it. I won't let on that I see it. I know he hates breaking down in front of me as much as I do in front of him. I place the necklace over his head and fasten the clasp in back. He turns so I can see how it looks lying against the forest green of his cashmere sweater. I touch the gold medallion and his hand comes up to cover mine. He looks down and a single tear hits my knuckles.

"Thank you," he says simply. I bend forward and kiss his forehead. Both of us clear our throats.

"We'd better have that brandy."

"I should start the fire," he gestures towards the hearth with his head.

"Oh yeah. Uh...I need to use the can." I lie. I'm going to lose it completely and I've decided to go upstairs and get sloppy.

Walter just nods as I make a quick exit.

xXx

Later on after both of us have gotten ourselves under control again, we sit together in front of the couch and sip our brandy in silence just enjoying each other's company. It had stopped snowing during the day but now it's snowing again and we can still view the flakes through the window if we look past the tree. The snow is illuminated in one of the outside night time house lights.

I notice Walter fingering the necklace several times. I smile. I can tell he's pleased with it. I was worried he'd think it was too risky to wear it. But it will be under his shirt and next to his heart. And it doesn't have any initials or names on it. I'm sneaking another peak at him and he notices me looking and grins a little. 

"I bet you think I didn't get you anything." he rumbles.

It's my turn to raise my eyebrows. Truthfully the thought never occurred to me. I figured his trip up here and offer to cook the meal was going to be his gift to me. It was more then enough, God knows. This has been wonderful.

"I thought you were the gift, Walter," I smile gently at him and I'm secretly delighted to see him blush. He hardly ever does it outside the bedroom and it's a treat to see.

"You know what I mean," he growls.

I smirk and he gets up and puts his brandy snifter down.

"Well, it just so happens I did get you a gift," he replies self consciously, "be right back."

I sit there in amazement as he goes upstairs. He returns shortly with two boxes, obviously expertly gift wrapped by the stores. He joins me again on the couch and places the two boxes in front of me. 

"Two?"

"Well one's kind of a gag gift. Open the long one first."

"Walter this is a tie box. I can tell."

He's grinning.

I open it carefully. I wouldn't put it past him if something popped up in my face. He has that kind of cornball sense of humor. But the box cover comes off without incident and then I am really laughing.

"Oh shit." I chortle lifting out the tie. It's silk and embroidered very artfully with a whole bunch of those Rolling Stones logos. You know the one with the huge lips and the titanic tongue. 

Walter is trying to hold in his laughter, and finally he can't any longer.

"You asshole," I bray helplessly.

"You know it," he shakes with humor, "Read the back. Manufacturers label."

I turn it over and then bellow some more. He does as well. The label says *Aural Ties, Inc. A Division of Fox Apparel*.

"Aural?"

"Close enough, Fox," he chokes, trying to regain his breath.

I shake my head, "I'm afraid to look in the other one."

"Oh, that ones safe. Much more respectable," he hastens to assure me, grinning. I put the tie and it's box and wrapping paper down on the coffee table.

"I take it I shouldn't where this one to the office?" I grin.

"Not unless you want your AD to boot you in the butt."

"It's a classic tie, Walter, just classic. Thanks."

"I thought it was you," he agrees, "you're welcome. Now open the other gift."

I look into his face. He looks younger suddenly. Eager, and boyish. I smile into his glasses and pick up the other box. I start to shake it.

"Just open it."

I take off the wrapping and sit it next to the other box on the coffee table. I manage to get the box open and then I look up into his somber brown eyes.

"You're not serious."

"Deadly. You can wear that in the office. I like it when you're on time for my meetings, agent."

"Walter...this is a Rolex..." I reply taking the watch out of the box.

"So..."

"I...this is expensive."

"And you're not worth it?"

"I didn't say that."

"But you're implying it," he replies quietly shifting closer to me.

"Turn it over," he breathes into my ear. Shivers run through me as I turn the watch over in my hands. There's a date engraved on the back and that's all.

"Oh man," I run a finger over the numerals.

"You recognize the date?"

"This was our first time together...in Baton Rouge," I whisper. 

He kisses my cheek gently and I feel the buzz of his words against my flesh.

"Don't ever think that night wasn't worth everything in the world to me. Never think you're not worth everything, anything in the world to me," he whispers.

I put the watch down carefully on the table and fall into his arms.

xXx

We almost break our necks on the stairs because we're trying to rip the clothes off each other. By the time we get up to the bed, the only stitch of clothing still on is Walter's new medallion. I'm hard, but Walter isn't quite there yet. Almost pitching backwards down the steps was a bit of a sex suppressant I guess. But we're laughing about it anyway, hands everywhere, lips following.

Walter's holding my head and our mouths are crushed together, I can hardly breath as I push him down onto the comforter. He sits down hard and releases my mouth. I sink to my knees instantly and start to lick at his thighs.

"Oh Jesus," he moans as I bring my tongue up under his cock and lap along the vein that pulses there.

"I knew I bought the right fuckin' tie," he laughs as his hips thrust up.

I smile wickedly and start to work over his balls and then the head of his cock. He rocks back onto his arms and braces himself, sighing and then grunting in pleasure.

"Babe, you do that so well," he moans as I let my tongue move around the glans and then tickle the crown again and again.

I look up at him. His head's back and his eyes are shut tight. He cries out as I take him in from tip to base. I'm deep throating him right back to my tonsils.

"Dear God!" he moans and then he starts to buck into my face. He works himself for only a short time though until he's really hard and then he touches my head and pushes me gently back.

"Hold it. I need this. I wanna fuck you," he breathes raggedly. 

"I was hoping that might be the case," I smile up at him. "And you know how I want it?" I purr, climbing up to lie next to him as he lies flat.

"How?" he looks at me under hooded eyes.

"On top."

"Oh yeah, baby. You're gonna love it," he grins wide. Both of us shift up onto the bed and start to caress and touch each other. We murmur our love and then rougher words. Things that we know will excite and arouse us.

I know I'm going to need some more foreplay before I try this one. I also know I want to bring myself off for Walter before I ride his cock. I need to be really relaxed and loose and if I come first it will help. Besides Walter did himself for me the last time when he was on top. It was an incredible show and I think he'll appreciate me returning the favor.

After we suck, lick and rub ourselves together for a blissfully nice amount of time, Walter reaches over to the night stand and grabs the Astroglide. I take it from him before he can remove the cap and lay it down on the bed next to his leg. Then I run my hand down the length of my cock. I look at him with a really wicked grin. He gets my drift and lies back with his hands behind his head eyeing me in anticipation. I bend down and kiss his straining erection. God I can't believe how swollen he is tonight. Talk about Monster Boy. Holy smoke.

"I want to jerk myself off for you lover," I croon. "I want you to see just what you make me do when you're not here. When I'm so hot and horny I can't keep my hands off my cock."

He licks his lips slightly, "Show me, baby," he growls. I move so that I'm kneeling next to his chest. After all, he doesn't have his specs on.

"Got the picture, main man?" I drawl as I start to tease my glans and crown. I work round and round with my fingertips, squeezing and stroking, rubbing one finger pad into the slit in the end to moisten my fingers with the pre-cum that's starting to drip out. I roll the pre-cum up over the glans and repeat the whole series of motions. My breath really starts to pick up.

"Up close and personal," Walter replies as his breath quickens too.

I shut my eyes and start to fist myself in earnest.

"Oh good, good, good," I repeat like a mantra as the pressure in my groin builds and builds. I can usually bring myself off quickly if I need to. And I want to come fast tonight.

"Oh babe, you're good all right," Walter moans. Before I can reply he grabs for me.

"Whoa," I yelp as he pulls me forward. I end up straddling his chest and he takes my cock in his mouth.

"Oh shit!" I cry out as he takes the head of my cock between his lips. His firm suction finishes the job. I come, shooting my wad down his throat with a hoarse shout. He swallows and then licks me clean, laving my balls for good measure. I feel him reach back to slap me on the ass.

"I couldn't resist," he laughs.

"Well, I have to admit it was a very pleasant surprise."

"No kidding," he replies, "You want me to prep you now?" he adds picking up the lube.

"Oh yeah," I grin. We go about the preparations. I kneel on my hands and knees, my ass towards him at first so he can work his fingers in to stretch me. I was right about jerking off. It really helped to relax my muscles. He has no trouble getting me ready. As soon as I feel open enough I turn around and help him slick up his cock. Finally I shift to straddling him just in back of his erection. 

"If you wanna change your mind, I'll understand," he whispers as I lick my lips.

"No way," I reply.

"Take a deep breath, babe," he advises as I shift up and lower myself onto his cock.

Oh God. I'm taking a deep breath all right. Walter takes my hands and helps to steady me. I can feel him lying as still as he can even though his breath is shuddering.

"Easy, baby," he groans and I gasp a little. The pain almost eclipses the pleasure for a moment but then I feel the inner ring of muscle give way and with a moan of joy I lower myself down to rest against his lap. I've had my eyes shut in concentration. Now I open them and look down into Walter's face. The look of love and lust that I see there makes my cock start to stiffen again and my heart overflows with passion for my lover.

"You look wonderful," he whispers, moving his hands to my hips, resting them lightly there.

"Damn, this feels good," I whisper in return.

"I knew you'd like it," he grins though bared teeth. If you want to enjoy it for a little while I can hold back," he hisses.

"Jesus, man, you never cease to amaze me," I nod, giving myself a moment to feel his hard, thick flesh filling me. I tilt my head back and breathe in and out several times focusing on the erotic little spasms issuing up from the center of my body. I can feel my neck muscles tensing.

"God, you should see your face," Walter whispers, amazement and tenderness filling his voice.

I look down on him and smile dreamily, "I love you," I whisper running my hands over his stomach. Having him in me is an unbelievably exquisite sensation. An errant thought plays across my mind and it thrills me even though I know it should disturb me profoundly. As much as I enjoy sex with Scully this is something she can never do for me. Fill me this way, fuck me, possess me and make me feel like I'm possessing her in return all at the same time.

"I wanna make love to you, Walter," I whisper, stroking his stomach again, "Make love to me back." I bring one hand up to brush the medallion around his neck.

He caresses my hip, "Go slow," he breathes out and I raise up just enough to gain some space and then sit back down slowly. Oh fuck, fuck, it's infuckingcredible. Again and again I lift up and sink down. Walter is crooning to me with each rise of my hips. Moving up just slightly to meet me. Teasing me. Stroking up to hit my prostate. I'm writhing in ecstasy, almost beyond coherent thought and certainly beyond coherent speech. I've been reduced to whining and grunting in monosyllables. For once Walter is the more articulate.

"Oh lover, that's so good. You look so fine. Easy though. Just slide down easy. I can keep this up all night. You wanna come. Come on. I'll do you. Just enjoy the ride, baby."

I'm vaguely aware that he's taking my cock in one hand and still guiding my hips with the other. As he starts to pump me I do find my voice for a second, whining in entreaty.

"Walter! Please make me cum! I'm dyin'" I gurgle as another wave of pressure and heat builds up in my body and pools in my groin.

"You're gonna cum, Fox. I can feel it in your balls. Feel that. Tight and big. So good. So hard. Come on. Do it. Come on."

His voice hypnotizes me. I climb up and up and finally the whole world goes bright. The air roars. I'm stone deaf, but I know I'm screaming. I can feel Walter thrashing under me and somehow I know his orgasm is coming on the heels of mine. When sound comes back I can hear us both crying out. Walters guttural, "Fuck!" practically breaks the sound barrier. I'm making some kind of yowl that I don't even associate with my own larynx. Our bodies are convulsing almost in unison. Both of us are bathed in sweat. Finally we fall sideways again and I slide off Walter and lie there totally spent. He rolls onto his back again, breathing hard and still speechless. Finally when he does speak it's a laugh.

"Buckle your seat belt next time baby, I could barely hold on there at the end."

I guffaw and then choke, coughing to regain air.

"Fuck you!" I gasp, giggling.

He laughs harder and then grasps me close, kissing me and nuzzling my neck. When I can breath almost normally he rolls me over to take a look at my target area.

"Oh hell," he rumbles, sudden concern in his voice.

"Damage?" I ask. Yeah, something stings a little.

"You're a little red here."

"Bad?"

"I don't think so," he runs a finger gently over my anus.

"Does it hurt right here?"

"It doesn't feel too bad."

He pulls his finger back, and I roll over to see him frowning. He shows me his finger. There's a smear of blood on it.

"You're torn a little," he says dismally.

"Hey, it's ok. It doesn't hurt much at all. Really. This is going to happen sometimes. We...I should have been more careful." I don't want him to feel guilty. It was marvelous making love with him tonight. I don't want his memory of it to be colored by the idea that he tore me.

"Ok, but...uh, we'd better lay off this form of lovin' for a few days."

"That's fine. I want to remember how great this was for a while anyway," I reply, moving close to kiss him. I can tell he's upset at the thought he hurt me. I stroke his face and then he responds to the kiss, tasting me gently.

"It was phenomenal," I assure him when we break apart. He smiles and I can tell he's going to be all right with it. I whisper in his ear to bring it on home, "You fucked my brains out my ears, Walter. I can't even tell you how good it felt to ride your rock hard cock." 

"Christ!" he barks a quick laugh. "Ok, shut up. You've proved your point." His ears are red again but I can tell he's going to puff up. Hey, every guy likes to hear their lover tell them they gave them the ride of their life. Even great big tough as nails ADs like Walter S. Skinner.

"Oh, I think I'm the one who got the point," I purr seductively, licking at his chin. I end up at his mouth and we kiss again. He pulls me close and deepens the kiss until we're both sucking and slavering all over each other. Finally we break apart and he's grinning.

"You are one quirky bastard, but I love you."

"Yup. Same here. Let's go clean up," I reply smiling into his crinkling eyes.

"Right. I think there's some Bacitracin in the medicine cabinet. You can use that on the tear."

"Good idea. Come on, I'll wash your back," I smile and we get up and go into the master bathroom.

xXx

December 25, Christmas Day  
Crossroads, Maine

I hear the sound of a parade. Very low, and distant as I struggle up out of a warm, cushioned sleep. What the heck? Where's the parade? I carefully lift one eyelid to see Walter propped up on a bunch of pillows against the headboard, the TV remote in his hand. He senses my movement and glances at me.

"Merry Christmas," he smiles, bending down to kiss the top of my head. I shift my eye over to see that the big screen TV on.

"What are you watching?" I ask covering my head up again.

"Just channel checking. I thought I might find some Christmas music."

"Well, what the heck is that?" I poke my nose out and stare at the TV again.

"The Muppet Christmas Parade."

"Oh Lord," I groan, covering my head back up. Walter laughs and I hear the TV shut off.

I feel him lift the covers and dive under them. He kisses my ass and I laugh.

"How's the butt?" he asks, bringing his head back out and flinging the covers back with a flourish.

"Cold!" I yelp.

We both laugh as he falls on me, warming me with his radiant man furnace.

"This better?"

"Oh yeah. And my ass is fine, big man. But I gotta take a piss." 

He chuckles, "Yeah, me too. We have to get up anyway. I need to get that bird in the oven if we're going to eat before midnight." 

"I'm starving now."

"Mulder you're a bottomless pit. Don't eat too much now. You'll never have room for the turkey and all the trimmings."

"All right, all right, Mr. Galloping Gourmet. Are we going for a run to burn off some calories before we chow down?"

"We have time for a quick one I think. Get you ass in gear and lets go."

"Yes, sir, Mr. AD, sir."

After the run and a shower, we ate some melon for breakfast. Over coffee, Walter's starts cleaning the turkey. It's a Butterball Junior. Walter thinks it's a good size for two men. He's got so much other food I'd say it's more than enough. But what the heck. Holidays are for feasting. While he's up to his wrist in the turkey I'm emptying something called *Brownberry Stuffing - Original Flavor* in a bowl. It looks like a bunch of stale croutons but it smells of onion and sage. Pretty tasty smell at least.

"Now what?" I ask.

"I have to boil the giblets and then we'll use the water from those to moisten the stuffing. Later if you want, you can cut up the giblets and add them to the stuffing."

I wrinkle my nose as he pulls the giblet bag out of the bird.

"Looks like one of Scully's autopsies."

"Oh thanks, I really needed to know that factoid," he grouches. 

"Sorry," I smirk.

"So, fill a pot up with water and put it on the burner," he gestures with his head, "Oh, and get a couple of eggs out of the fridge."

I do as instructed. I can boil water with the best of them. I set the eggs in a smaller bowl and stand back to watch the pot.

Walter brings the giblets over once they're out of the bag and dumps them in the water.

"Keep an eye on it. When they're done take the giblets out and set them aside to cool. Then let the water cool a little and pour it over the stuffing."

"Oh, I get it, I mix it around until it's gushy."

"Well, not sopping. Add the water gradually. If it isn't enough water, add a little warm water from the tap. And put in one egg and then let me see what the consistency of the mixture looks like."

"Righto, Chef Tell."

I did that stuffing up proud, I'll tell you. I've never in my life made a turkey and Walter's preparations were endlessly fascinating to me. He was fairly patient with showing me how everything worked. Scully couldn't have done better stitching up the turkey's butt end just before it was ready to go in the oven.

Once the bird was in, we took a break.

"Want a glass of egg nog?" he asks.

"Sure. But what about the rest of this food?"

"Mulder, didn't you ever hang around when your mother was cooking Christmas dinner?"

"No, I was always watching TV or goofing around with..." I almost said Sam. It was right on the tip of my tongue. Shit. My heart gives a lurch in my chest. I change thought midstream though, squashing the pain down deep,"...my Christmas gifts."

"Well lucky for us I used to hang around in the kitchen with my mother. Sharon gave me endless tips too. She was a good cook."

"So what about the rest of the food then?"

"You start fixing stuff when the turkey is closer to being done." 

"Ah ha."

"Right. So how about that egg nog?"

"Sounds good to me. And can I help make the turnips? I'm good at cutting stuff up. It's my assigned task when Scully and I..." I let my voice trail off.

Walter puts his hand on my shoulder, "Look, I know you miss her. She's going to come around."

I nod.

"And if you promise not to make me call 911, I'll let you cut up the turnips."

"You've got a deal," I smile and he moves to the fridge to get the egg nog.

Later...

"Hand me the baster."

"The what?"

"That thing with the bulb on the end."

"Oh."

I hand the implement to Walter and he pulls a bunch of turkey juice up in it and then squirts it all over the bird. He places the cover back on the roaster and shoves the whole works back in the oven.

"OK. That's the first basting. It's got a while to go. Let's go back in the living room," Walter suggests.

"Do you want to watch a tape?"

"Sure, how about Dr. No?"

"Great."

When we get back into the living room Walter asks, "What time is it, Mulder?"

I glance at my new Rolex and smile back up at him.

"Noon. And Walter, I still don't know how I can alibi buying this thing on my salary."

"If anyone asks, tell them your mother bought it for you," he chuckles.

I look at it again and raise a speculative eyebrow. You know, that's not a bad idea. Just as I look up and through the window in back of the Christmas tree I spot a car coming up the snow covered road.

"Walter, someone's coming up the entrance road," I turn and look at him, my brow furrowing.

"Really?" he asks. He doesn't seem surprised at all. I frown.

"Yeah, they're on the driveway and stopping in front of the house."

I cross out of the living room and Walter starts to follow.

"No, stay there. I'll take a look through the peep hole and see who it is before I open the door."

"Ok, fine," he shrugs and stays back slightly as I move to the front door. Before I can get to the peep hole the door bell rings. 

I quietly peer through the peep hole. /OH MY GOD!/

"Merry Christmas, Fox," Walter says quietly.

I turn to him, and reply, incredulity mixed with raw panic in my voice.

"I thought the Magi were the only ones who brought three gifts, Walter."

xXx

"Merry Christmas, Mulder," Dana Scully smiles up at me from the open doorway. Her warm, breathe, smelling faintly of peppermint, wafts up out of the hood of her parka.

For one brief insane moment I hallucinate that the angel has come down from the top of the Christmas tree and landed on the front porch. Scully looks so beautiful her, pale skin glowing and tinged red from the cold, her red lips even more red and her eyes, those blue eyes...

I just stand there. I don't know what comes over me unless you can call it complete paralysis. Emotional lock-up. I feel like a rabbit trapped in car headlights. I stare at Scully, and stare, and stare and...

Several critical thoughts fly through my mind. First, Walter has lied to me all weekend. Well, lied through omission, although if Sharon's phone call was Scully confirming her itinerary then he lied to me outright. That idea hurts me more than I ever thought it could. Second, what was this weekend between us if Walter arranged to have Scully come up here? Was this his farewell fuck weekend? I mean all the little kindness', the consideration and attending to my every need, the tie, the Rolex. Does he expect me to make nice with Scully and dump him? Or does he plan to get out of the way in some kind of altruistic bullshit gesture...Oh hell.

My brain is freezing. I can barely entertain the third thought - that Walter has persuaded Scully to make nice and that then all three of us will...no way - I don't see that in her face at all. She's staring back at me, concern written in her eyes. Why can't I say something!

Because now that's she's here, I'm on overload. I'm trying to say, I'm sorry, come in, we need to talk desperately about our lives together, my sexuality, about whether I've made the biggest mistake in my life and hurt you - AGAIN, or I've hurt Walter or...or...I can't get any of it out. I feel like I'm going to choke and I know instantly that I have to get out of here. If only for a few minutes. I need fresh air. I need to clear my head. I need to run.

"Mulder?" Walter asks, concern in his deep voice.

"Um," I whisper, "Forgive me. I...I need to get out of here," I step to the side and Scully comes into the hallway. I move to the closet door and start grabbing my winter clothing, spastically, dropping my hat on the floor.

"Mulder, what the hell..." Walter starts to growl.

I vaguely sense Scully holding up her hand to silence and warn him off as I pull on my winter coat and walk past them both.

"I...I just need some air," I let out a shuddering breathe.

Both Walter and Scully stand there mutely as I walk past them and out the door.

xXx

"Damn it!"

"Sir, it's all right..."

"Oh come on, it's not all right - he's being a bastard...a..." 

"Really, it will be ok."

"Ok? OK? Why are you always making excuses for him Scully? This is reprehensible behav..."

"And why won't you ever cut him some slack, sir? You never stop to think..."

"Cut him some slack? If I did he'd get himself into all sorts of trouble going off half cocked..."

"Oh please - AD Skinner to the rescue, that's just fine. I get so sick of hearing..."

"Fine!? I get so sick of hearing you say fine I could just pu..." 

"Sir?"

"...puke and furthermore..."

"Sir..."

"if you think..."

"SIR!"

"What?"

"To risk coining a phrase - Can we just all get along here please! I...I don't want to fight with you. I'm really not in the mood. I don't think you are either."

"Fine, Scully."

"Oh please..."

"Sorry."

"Ok, so am I. Now, can we start over?"

"All right, good idea. Uh..."

"Mulder has done this before, truly. It's a coping mechanism. Just let him go. He'll be back fairly soon."

"Yeah, well he's not the only one who cuts out when..."

"So I heard..."

"All right. I'm sorry Scully. God, I'm sorry for a lot of things now. But this takes the cake. I never expected him to just walk out. Shit."

"Well, Mulder's middle name is impulsive, sir."

"No kidding. And uh, look, I'm sorry I barked at you."

"Well, Mulder has a way of pressing all our buttons. So, I'll take that into consideration."

"Thank you. Oh hell, where are my manners? Can I take your coat? That is if you want to stay. I wouldn't blame you if you got back in your car and left."

"No, it's all right. I'll stay. Thanks."

"I'll just put your coat in the closet if you'd like to go in the kitchen. There's coffee in there. Uh, I'm still buying."

"I can use it. It's getting cold out."

"Yeah, I hope to hell Mulder doesn't stay out there long."

"Oh, I don't think he will. Like I said - this is pretty typical behavior. He just needs to compose himself."

A short time later...

"Coffee ok? I have egg nog."

"No, I'm fine."

"Oh really?"

"I'm fine with the coffee...sir."

"Look, Scully, can you manage to call me Walter. I don't think the sir thing holds water after...well after that night in the hotel. And I really have to apologize for my actions that evening I..."

"Walter, can we...listen...that whole hotel business embarrasses the hell out of me, ok? I could hardly talk about it with Mulder. I don't think I can talk about it with you at all."

"Oh. Well, uh, can you at least accept my sincere apologies. I was terribly insensitive to your feelings."

"Yes, it was insensitive. It did hurt me...very much. I can accept your apology with the understanding that you at least will have a little more restraint and...and some damn respect for me next time." 

"Point taken. I don't have a problem with that."

"Good because if you did I *would* be walking out of here. And don't think I won't take this issue up with Mulder later."

"All right. I think that's a good idea. Oh, can you excuse me a second? I need to baste the turkey?"

"What?"

"I'm making Christmas dinner."

"You're making a turkey?"

"You find that amusing Agent Scully?"

"Well..."

"Yeah, all right, I'll admit it doesn't fit in with my surly persona - but hey, I'm a passable cook."

"I'd say so, that looks delicious. Smells delicious too."

"The whole meal's going to be good - providing I can juggle preparing all this other food since Mulder saw fit to bug out on me." 

"Oh, well...uh...I can help."

"You cook Agent Scully?"

"Does a bear...."

"Ok, sorry. I just wanted to see that eyebrow."

"Sir! Are you flirting with me?"

"That'd be the day."

"Walter?"

"Yes."

"What's this doing..."

"We had Chinese last night. That was the extra fortune cookie. Open it if you'd like."

"Oh for God's sake."

"What does it say?"

"You will attend a party where strange customs prevail."

"You're shitting me?"

"No, see for yourself."

"Crap, that's as bad as the one I got."

"Which said?"

"Your brilliant smile and pleasing personality win you many friends."

"Uh huh."

"Right."

"Listen, Walter?"

"Yes?"

"Do you mind if I test that fortune by asking you a personal question?"

"I'm willing to give it a shot, Scully."

"Well....when did you know that... when did you decide you were gay?"

"I don't mind Scully. I guess the Marines really made me admit I was attracted to men. I fell in love with a buddy in my unit. I mean head over heels. But I never said a word to him. You just didn't let on anything like that in those days. Being a homosexual was not the way to win friends and influence people in the Marines."

"What happened to your friend?"

"He was killed with the rest of the unit."

"I'm so sorry."

"Well the fact that I never told him I was attracted to him ate at me afterwards. It ate at me so much I shoved all those feelings deep down as far as I could. Later, when I met Sharon I married her because by that time I'd told myself I could go straight if I found the right woman. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case."

"I see."

"Well, you probably see part of it. But I need to tell you I was never unfaithful to Sharon. I wouldn't have done that to her. We were...we were very good friends before things went wrong. I respected her too much to cheat on her with anyone. Well, until that business with the prostitute, but at that point we were separated." 

"So, you never saw other men?"

"I know. Corny. But yeah, I guess I'm monogamous. And I'm not going to lie to you - I...I rather prefer that the...that the person...well...I'd prefer it if Mulder were monogamous too."

"Meaning monogamous with you?"

"Yes. Scully this is difficult for me, can you understand that?" 

"Oh, more than you can know, believe me."

"Yeah, I guess so."

"But, go ahead Walter. I'm listening."

"All right. Scully I love him. I'd prefer to not have to share him. I mean I'm not above jealousy for God's sake. I'm only human. I don't think it's a very laudable trait and I'm fighting it like hell. But I can't deny I've felt it."

"You don't have the corner on the green eye-monster market, I'm afraid."

"I got that impression, yes."

"What I have trouble understanding is how Mulder can even keep the two relationships separate. I mean we can't. How the heck can he compartmentalize all this and still..."

"Well Fox Mulder isn't like most people. I mean when have either of us seen him be totally conventional about most things?"

"Not very often."

"Right. So, I...I suppose neither of us can expect him to be conventional about...well about his sexuality or what he needs in the way of....of love, or support or relationships. Besides -I think he walks a narrow line between...well between being nuts and being sane anyway. And he's so fucking conflicted, guilt ridden and unhappy so much of the..."

"Your point being?"

"My point being - that if being with you, Scully, is going to make him happy, keep him on an even keel, centered and doing what he needs to do on this damn quest of his then I guess I'm willing to compromise in any way shape or form to accommodate him."

"Because you love him?"

"Damn straight."

"You know Mulder's seen other men?"

"I know it."

"What makes you think he won't see others while he's with you?" 

"Because he told me he wouldn't and he *is* an honorable man. I believe him."

"Well, for what it's worth I think you're right there. I know he hasn't seen any other women since we've been together."

"I know he hasn't either. He...he worships the ground you walk on, Scully. He's been dying inside the whole time I've been up here. I've done everything I could to keep his mind off it. But, he's going crazy thinking you're never going to come back to him."

"Walter, I...I guess Mulder and I need to have that discussion." 

"I guess you do. Can I ask you something straightforward Scully?" 

"Shoot."

"I know I make you nervous - always have I guess because of the job. That's a given. I mean this has to be an extra added issue for you, doesn't it?"

"Very much so, Walter. I mean quite frankly I have the biggest problem relating to you as anything other than my superior. The fact that you are...well that you're Mulder's lover makes this a whole new ball game. I mean the fact that we're both involved with him...God, I don't even know how to relate to you at all anymore."

"Can I make a suggestion?"

"Please do because I'm fresh out of ideas."

"If you try to keep our association on the job strictly professional - so will I. Business as usual - I'll try to do the same."

"That's not that easy."

"Well can you try?"

"Can you?"

"What makes you ask? Don't you think I'm able to..."

"Well, you're voice says one thing right now, and your face...well your jaw muscles have a way of jumping when..."

"Scully?"

"Yes?"

"I'm just a little tense here. Give me a break. You can trust me. I thought we were past that matter."

"Sir?"

"Oh come on, you know what I mean Scully."

"All right. Maybe trust is in the back of my mind. I...you've given me more reasons to trust you than distrust you now. I guess that's obvious - after, well hell, after seeing you and Mulder together I guess it's not much of an issue."

"Exactly. So can't you believe I can be fair to you both at work? Can you just give it a shot and I'll..."

"I can try."

"All right. And outside the office if...well if we should be in a situation where we're together for some reason - like this - and your comfortable treating me as a friend or well, as a support network - I'd be willing to give that a try too."

"You're trying to say you'd allow...allow this to go on. Allow Mulder to continue to be involved with both of us and that you'd accept me as some kind of third wheel in this arrangement?"

"Not a third wheel Scully - an equal partner. A member of a *tripartite treaty* if you will."

"Because it makes Fox Mulder happy?"

"Is that such a bad thing?"

"Walter, I have to give this some serious thought."

"Well you do love him don't you?"

"I...yes. I love him."

"Then don't you think you can talk it over with him and maybe iron it out?"

"I need to talk to him. Whether we iron it out is going to be partly his problem. He's going to have to be willing to discuss this rationally. And he's going to have to listen to my concerns. And also - just because I love him doesn't mean I think staying with him is the best solution."

"I understand that aspect of the situation Scully. I feel the same way. As much as it would...it would hurt - if he decided to leave me for you...I'd let him go."

"You would?"

"In a heart beat."

"Well then I hope he's willing to discuss the situation with me for sure now."

"I think he's ready to do that. He's pretty desperate."

"I can still hardly believe any of this is happening Walter."

"Yeah, well if somebody told me a year ago that I'd come out of the closet because the man I loved finally..."

"Are you trying to say you've loved Mulder...

"I guess I'd been attracted to him for a long time Scully. Since practically the first day he walked into my office. I mean I lusted for him that long ago. In time I knew I loved him too. But at first - man I had it bad for...shit. Well, you know how he looks and..."

"Oh yeah, he's got that..."

"mouth..."

"God, yes..."

"At any rate, I never dreamed that the man of my dreams would want me too - love me back for that matter. When we went to Baton Rouge on that case..."

"Walter, are you trying to tell me Mulder was...Mulder was the first man for you?"

"Exactly."

"Get out. You're kidding? You're not kidding."

"Do I look like I'm kidding?"

"Uh...no."

"Yeah, well, he was the first, ok and...What's with the eyebrow again?"

"I'm sorry it's just that...well you're not a bad looking man...shit who am I kidding now - you're built like a statue Walter. Are you trying to tell me no one snapped you up until Mulder..."

"Agent Scully. Did anyone ever tell you you're as full of bullshit as your partner?"

"My partner. On a regular basis."

"Why am I not surprised?"

"But seriously, you're in great shape and..."

"Come, on, Scully even I get embarrassed..."

"Ok, look. I respect you, Walter. The fact that you're gay isn't a factor in anything here. I don't have a problem with that idea. I can try to...try to relate to you off the job as best I can. Maybe we can be, well let's say maybe we can be closer if you're patient. I'll give it a shot. As for the rest -this arrangement - with you, me and Mulder I...well I'll talk to Mulder as soon as he gets his butt back here. I can't guarantee it's going to fly but I can at least discuss things with him."

"That's all I ask. All I can expect and it's more than fair. You have to do what's best for yourself too after all. What you're the most comfortable doing. What seems the most honest for your situation."

"I'd like you to do the same thing Walter. I think if we stay honest with each other here that will help in the long run too."

"Agreed. And I'll start that trend by saying - you're a hell of a woman, Scully. I mean it."

"And I'll continue it by saying - thank you - and...yeah, you're a hell of a man, Walter.

"Shit, this mutual admiration society thing could get old, couldn't it?"

"Yes, you'll have to remember to growl at us once in a while." 

"There you go."

"And how's this for a little more egotism...just to balance things out...I'm a hell of a cook too. You want to see how good?"

"Ha! Can I take notes?"

xXx

 

* * *

 

xXx

I walked for a long time. Longer than I should have probably but I lost track of time despite having Walter's gift on my wrist.

Finally my feet pointed back towards the house. At least I think they did. It had gotten quite cold on the beach and the snow had picked up. I was having a little trouble feeling my feet and hands too for that matter.

As I'm nearing the house I can hear yelling. What the hell? It's Scully and Walter, flashlights swinging.

"Mulder!" Scully is calling in alarm, "Thank God, we've been looking all over for you."

"You monumental idiot, it's freezing out here!" Walter's long legs bring him up to my side before Scully can reach me. Walter takes hold of my shoulders and I realize I have been stumbling. I guess I am cold.

"Jesus, Mulder!" Scully exclaims as she draws up on my other side. 

"I'm not cold."

"Bull shit, Mulder. You could have frostbite. Come on, we have to get you in the house." Scully scolds, alarm tingeing her voice even though she's trying to bluster instead. Walter won't even speak and I can tell from the look on his face that if he did he'd rip my head off.

When they do get me up to the house and inside the pain starts to hit my extremities. I groan a little. They sit me down at the kitchen table. The pain starts to abate just enough to let me sniff the air. God, the smells are marvelous. My stomach growls, but I let out a terrific sneeze.

"Oh wonderful. Mulder if you get a relapse of that friggin' sinus infection I'm gonna break your neck."

"Thank you Walter. I'm sure that will keep my mind off my nose." 

Scully is frantically examining my hands, chaffing them between hers.

"Ow!"

"Shut up. I'm glad it hurts. It means you probably don't have frostbite. Take your shoes off."

Crap. Doctor Scully rides again, "My feet are fine."

"Take your fucking shoes off, agent, or I'll take them off for you," Walter growls.

I raise an eyebrow at him and when he moves towards me I bend in haste to remove the shoes. Shit. I am dizzy. My sinuses...

"Damn it..."

"Walter, catch him..."

"That's it buddy, you're going up to bed right now."

"Mulder, for crying out loud..."

"I'm all right, Scully. I think my sinuses are just..."

"Scully, help me get him up."

My sinuses really are pounding now that the warm air has hit them. My head feels raw and my equilibrium is off a little. Walter lifts me up on one side and Scully inserts herself under the opposite arm. I lurch up and then almost fall again.

"Oh, sorry..."

"S'ok. One foot at a time," Walter encourages me. Somehow we make it upstairs. Walter deposits me on the bed and then turns to Scully. 

"Look, can you handle this from here - I mean you are the doctor after all. Someone has to check on the food. I might as well play cook. It's lucky we didn't burn the house down already."

"Sure, that's a good idea, Walter," Scully answers. I look from one of them to the other, open mouthed as they discuss me like I'm not there.

"Hey, remember me, the patient, Mr. and Ms. Well-Organized 1998?" I gripe.

"Shut up, Mulder," they both bark in unison.

"Pardon me," I hiss and then I turn my back on them both and curl up on the comforter.

I hear Walter leaving the room and his voice joined with Scully's in the hallway for a moment.

"I think he's just still weak from the wound and the sinus infection. Has he been getting mild exercise..."

"Sort of..."

"Oh hell. I'm glad I said something about restraint. Look, has he been running again too?"

"Yeah."

"Well he's going to need to rest for a couple of days. He's exhausted - and walking all that way in the cold was really stupid." 

"I think he's gotten that message."

"Right. Ok, well...I guess you'd better get downstairs."

"Maybe I should plan on bringing some food up here."

"Not a bad idea. I'm going to try to get him into a warm bath. When he's done and tucked in we can eat."

"Ok, I'll check back."

I hear Walter's tread on the stairwell and Scully comes back in the room. She shuts the door.

"Mulder, get your feet off that comforter, you're getting it wet." 

I roll over obediently and try to sit up.

"Here let me help you," she says quietly, coming over to grab my arm.

"Thanks. I...I appreciate it," I manage to sniffle, "Oh shit..." my nose chooses that moment to drip a huge string of snot. Scully starts to chuckle.

"Here, can you sit up for a second, I'll get you some Kleenex." 

"God, I'm so sorry," I answer meekly. How disgusting. This is embarrassing. On top of everything else my body betrays me - again. 

She laughs harder, "Mulder - a little mucus is not going to put me off my feed - I mean remember what I do for a living? I'm just happy you're not wiping it on your sleeve."

I chuckle a little then too as she goes into the master bathroom. She returns quickly with the Kleenex. When she hands it to me I take it but clasp her hand tight around the tissue and pin her eyes.

"Scully, I'm so sorry - about...about everything. Please...we...we need to talk."

"Yes, Mulder, we do. But, first I want to get you in the tub." 

"Can you sit in there and talk to me then?" I ask, wiping my nose. 

"Yeah, I guess I can."

"Ok. Can you wash my back?" I ask with a slight smirk. I toss the used Kleenex towards the trash can. Perfect three pointer. Well I'm a hell of a lot less dizzy that's for sure.

"Don't press your luck, bubba."

I smile a little wider.

"Did you bring a robe?"

"Yeah. It's in the closet."

She goes over and gets it from the hanger.

"OK, Now take off your clothes and put this on. I'll go draw the bath for you."

"Yes ma'am," I nod as she goes back in the master bathroom. As I start to work my sweater up over my head I hear the bath water running.

A bit later...

"I could sing *Rubber Ducky* but I'll spare you."

"Thank you, Mulder."

"Scully?"

"Yes?"

"Your...Maggie isn't alone is she?"

"No, my mother and I were going to fly to San Diego to be with Bill and his family. She did. I didn't."

"But..."

"She'll handle Bill, Mulder. She...she understands what's going on - I mean between you and me - well as much as I could tell her. She thinks we had a fight.."

"So, can we talk about it then? I'll flip you to see who goes first..."

"Mulder this is serious," Scully interrupts from her seat on the closed toilet.

I slap the water with one hand, showering a plume of liquid all over the wall.

"God damn it I know that, Dana. I'm aware of how serious this is for crying out loud."

Her face starts to close off.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." I babble, "Look I...I don't know what the hell is wrong with me. I know I've hurt you terribly, especially that night in the hotel. I want to apologize for that night. Walter and I should have kept our hands off each other. God, that was so insensitive."

"I'd have to agree with you there. And you turned the whole incident back at me, Mulder - like it was my fault the two of you were fucking like dogs in heat."

"Yeah I know that now. I didn't realize it at the time though. I guess that's a typical guy thing - not to admit a mistake. I don't know. But I was so angry with the expression on your face. The disgust..."

"Well, it wasn't exactly disgust - it was more like -well I was mortally embarrassed to see the two of you together. I mean come on - it was a shock. I've never seen two men having sex."

"Making love..."

"Whatever. Mulder I'm warning you - cut me some slack."

"Sorry. I know what you mean. Go on."

"I have never seen two men...making love. Not even in one of your videos. So it shocked the hell out me. Fine. I'm a bit of a prude, I guess. But I'm not comfortable watching other people have sex anyway, much less two men. It's a private thing, regardless of the partner's genders."

"I can respect that idea. I won't disagree with your viewpoint." 

"Well good. But Mulder, I was also instantly angry that you didn't consider I might check on you if I heard noises coming from your bedroom. You put me in the position of walking in on a private act like that. When it comes right down to it, that wasn't fair to any of us. I mean reverse the situation. Walter would have probably been mortified too if he'd walked in on us."

"You have a point there," I nod. Yeah Walter would have shit for sure - he's modest when it comes to Scully. I get that idea big time. I look up into her eyes and she has a calm, non-hostile look on her face. I'm grateful for that fact, at least.

"Scully, I couldn't agree with you more on everything you've said. That's why I want to say I'm sorry and ask you, if you can, to forgive me for that night."

She shifts forward and says, "Mulder, you missed a spot on your back." I quietly hand her the washcloth and soap and she lathers it up. The soap goes in the soap dish hanging on the side of the tub. Her hands carefully begin to swab at the middle of my back with the washcloth.

"Does this mean you're going to forgive me?"

"It means I'm considering it."

I close my eyes. She's touching me, but her touch is cautious. More like a nurse than a lover. I sigh.

"Scully?"

"Yeah?"

"You're not going to sleep with me again are you?"

"Did I say that?" she takes her hand away and I open my eyes and look into hers.

"But you're thinking about it aren't you?"

"Aren't you?"

I keep looking at her, deep down into her blue eyes. She puts the washcloth back in the water.

"You're considering staying with Walter aren't you?" she asks quietly.

You know, there's a reason I love Scully. She's perceptive and knows me so well despite all the arguments, decisiveness and hurt feelings. She never loses sight of my inner heart no matter how difficult it may be to stomach, or how much I make an ass out of myself.

"Scully, I don't know. So much has been running through my mind since I've been up here. I just..."

"Fox, he really loves you."

I wince, "I know that Scully. I love him too. I love you. I...I guess I just don't love myself." The words are out before I even mean to say them. I wince again. Scully reaches forward and moves a tiny strand of close cropped hair off my forehead.

"I liked it better longer," she whispers.

I shift up and take her face in my hand, kissing her gently. She breaks away carefully.

"Mulder, I love you too. But, there's nothing I can do to help you there. You're going to have to learn to love yourself. No one can help you do it."

"Scully I shouldn't have said that - it sounded so self-centered." 

She raises an eyebrow.

"Ok, ok, yeah, well, I guess it slipped out and I know you're right about the learning to love myself bit. But I do love you both. Granted, I have been questioning my sexuality since Walter's been here. I mean whether maybe I'd just rather be with a man. There are things I'm experiencing with him...and I just don't mean the sex...I mean the feeling that..."

"Mulder, you've never really had a stable male influence in your life you know. I mean, come on, you're the psychologist. You should understand part of Walter's allure for you."

"Well he's one hell of a daddy Scully."

"You know what I mean."

"Yeah I do. So you think I'm calling you mommy? Lady, that's a disturbing thought too."

"Mulder. How the hell should I know? You tell me. You're the psychologist."

I know she's going to bring up the bit about getting help again. I don't want to hear it even though a voice in the back of my mind is screaming for me to listen to her. I just can't go there. I don't care how much I'm unable to love myself or think she's mommy and Walter's daddy. I can't deal with another doctor right now. I need to try to figure this out on my own.

"All right. I can agree the two of you are surrogate parents sometimes. But, it goes a hell of lot deeper than that, Dana. I can't deny I love both of you and right now I can't deny I'm attracted to both of you sexually. I mean take a look down if you don't think so." I started to get hard the minute she started to wash my back.

"So..."

"So, what can we do about it?"

She does grin a little.

"I don't mean my dick. I do have some restraint, Scully," I bluster in half-hearted annoyance. Then I grin in spite of it, because she's trying to hide a wider second grin.

"All right I'm perpendicularly challenged here. I trying to get my mind off it. And come on. I mean I really do want to hear your viewpoint. I'd appreciate the advice."

"Mulder, I'd really like to be able to give you sound advice. But, I don't know if I can handle this three way relationship deal. I can see the parental unit factor, Mulder. The sexuality isn't totally freaking me out. I don't have any innate prejudice against gays or bisexuals. I guess I can understand you being attracted to us both. I know Walter loves you and I know I love you. But I do have reservations about any of us being able to share and share alike in the long term. I mean I just don't know. I have no experience with this type of thing - no clue..."

"Well it's new ground for me too - and Walter..."

"I don't want any of us to get hurt - least of all Walter Skinner. Mulder, no matter how much of a friend he becomes to me or if he stays your lover, he's still our boss and all the implications of that position can't be denied either. You know there are more hindrances in this thing to make it fail then there are to make it succeed - if you just consider the bureau and nothing else."

"And since when has that made a difference to me Scully? Or to you for that matter?"

"Well, it might make a difference to Skinner."

"Are you trying to say you think Walter will be the weak link?" 

"Mulder, I have no idea. I'm just saying I think he has the most to lose if the shit hits the fan. And I guess I don't want to see that happen."

"I guess I should feel good about you're saying that."

"Why?"

"Because it's a step in the right direction. It means you like him a little more," I smile.

"I think he's a pretty patient man," she replies archly.

"Ok, I deserved that. So, do you still want to take some time away from me?" I ask tentatively. It's going to kill me if she does but I can understand it now if she still needs to do it. She did say she loves me. If she wants to just stay friends instead of lovers I...well I'll just have to try to deal with it. But Lord this is going to hurt. I just hope...

"Mulder if I did - you're not going to throw that sanity thing at me again are you?"

"That really pisses you off, doesn't it?"

"What do you think?"

"Look, Scully. Would it help if I said - if I said I'd consider getting help if I thought I was really going to lose it?" Ok, so I'm willing to bend a little. I guess I am really willing to do anything to keep her. Even face the idea that seeing another psychologist makes me sick to my stomach.

"Yes, it would."

"Ok, then I'll agree."

She studies me carefully for a second.

"Ok," she nods. I can tell she believes me. I sigh in relief.

"So, will you or won't you..."

"Stay?"

"Yeah."

"Mulder, I think we need to get a couple more things straight." 

"What?"

"Well first I can't sleep with you right away. I...I can't just get back to it that fast. But yeah, I can't deny I love you and hell - you're a fantastic lover. I can't deny my wants and needs there either. So, I don't want to stop being your lover. You're just going to have to be patient with me there."

"As long as you need, Dana. I...I won't put any pressure on you. I love being with you, in bed or not. And you're wonderful both ways. Really."

She smiles slightly and looks down at her hands where they rub her jeans a little. Then she looks up, stills her fingers, and continues more seriously.

"And secondly. There is no way in hell I'm going to see you and Walter Skinner doing the wild thing again - I mean it. When I am in the vicinity the two of you will either have some manners - or buy me a fucking pair of ear plugs. And don't do it when you've been wounded or hit on the head for God's sake. I don't want a peep show when I come running in to check on you. If that's going to happen then Nurse Skinner can take care of you the next time - alone."

"I just nod and smile, nod and smile. I agree with it all and she's so cute anyway I can't disagree now.

"And last but not least - that goes for us too - I won't subject Walter to walking in on us while we're playing ride 'em cowboy either."

"I guess that precludes my menage a trois fantasies."

"Don't think I don't know you've had them, Fox Mulder. You don't even want to go there. But if you can just give me some time and just not act like a total insensitive a-hole about this...this arrangement - I'll give it a shot. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Dr. Scully. I hear and obey."

"God, I wish I had a tape recorder."

I laugh.

"I wouldn't laugh, Mulder. Because I'm deadly serious. If any one of us fucks with the other - and I don't mean in bed - I bail. Got it."

"Yes, ma'am." I assure her equally as seriously. Oh yeah, I know when she means business.

"Good, ok," she nods.

I grin a little and she can't help grinning back.

"Are we going to bring Walter into the loop on this, Lois Lane? It's only fair."

"Yes, of course Dick. Bruce Wayne has to be in on the action. You're pruning up anyway. I'll go down and tell Batman that we're almost ready to eat."

"Wrong comic."

"You look better in green tights."

"Quick - to the Bat Cave, Batgirl."

"That's Bat Woman to you...Mr. Grayson."

xXx

"More wine, Scully?"

"Uh, sure....thank you...as soon as I...well...I need to visit the ladies room."

"Oh, all right. No problem."

Walter, Scully and moi are all ensconced on and around the king-sized bed, plates of food lying empty on the dresser. I've got the covers pulled up to my neck, per Scully's insistence so I kept warm before, during, and now after stuffing myself full of holiday fare.

We definitely let Walter into the loop. The look on his face was priceless. It made my heart feel good to see him happy, relieved and content. *Peace on Earth and Good Will* indeed. He smiled a real smile and then insisted we both take a seat so he could act as host. The food and wine started to flow and by the time the meal was done all three of us were feeling mighty fine. Oh yes sirree.

Now Walter was going back over to the improvised ice bucket courtesy of Rubbermaid to get some of the excellent white wine he had chosen to go with the turkey. We'd already polished off two bottles and he was cracking our third. As Scully enters the master bathroom, wobbling a bit under the influence of the wine, I watch Walter deftly open the second bottle. Then a thought rips through my head. Oh my God I forgot Scully's gifts!

"Walter," I hiss in chagrin.

"What?" he cocks an eyebrow as he looks at me.

"I forgot Scully's gifts."

"Oh shit."

"They're downstairs."

"Where?"

"Still in the front coat closet."

"Ok. I'll go. You run interference if she comes out before I'm back."

"What do I tell her?"

"Hell, I'm an old fuck. Tell her my prostate won't let me hold my booze. I had to use the downstairs can."

I start to gurgle my laughter as he sets the wine bottle down and quickly exits. Lucky he can hold his liquor. He can take the stairs and not fall on his face.

Damn it, I didn't have a chance to wrap Scully's presents. Oh well, she'll have to make do without even the Mulder traditional wrapping. I chew on my lip as I hear Walter downstairs at the coat closet door.

He just manages to get back upstairs with the bag and bring it to the bed when we hear the toilet flush and the sink start to run. I try to hide the bag under the covers, on the side away from Scully. Walter was sitting in an overstuffed chair he'd pulled up next to the bed during the meal and Scully was sitting next to me, against the head board. Walter rushes back to the wine bottle and proceeds to fill Scully's glass just as she comes out of the bathroom.

"Here you go Scully," he stops her progress to the bed, just long enough for me to get the gift bag completely hidden.

"Great," she smiles at him, taking the glass. She walks over and climbs back up onto the covers, next to me.

Walter comes back over also and refills both my glass and his from the bottle. Then he hands me my glass and sits down on the edge of the bed with his glass in hand.

All of us take a sip.

"This is excellent wine," Scully nods at Walter.

"Thanks. I've always enjoyed it," Walter replies amiably.

"Yeah it's really classic. I can even taste it through my stopped up nose," I grin, teasing him.

"You wouldn't know a classic wine from Ripple, you bum," Walter laughs, teasing back.

"Oh and you're such an expert, you damn Queen."

"That's Sir Queen to you, monster boy."

I start to laugh.

Scully is barely suppressing her laughter as Walter and I spar, mugging in imitation of each other.

"Didn't your mother ever tell you if you did that your face would get stuck?" Walter jibes.

"God forbid I end up with a surly man puss like yours."

"See Scully, no class. No taste whatsoever."

"Oh, I don't know. I have some class. And I have lots of taste. I mean look at what I have here if you want the proof."

My words successfully draw Scully's attention away from Walter and to my hand as I pull the bag of gifts out from under the covers.

She's staring and then none of us quite know what to say next. So, I settle on the simple expression. The one that comes readily and obviously to mind.

"Merry Christmas, Scully."

"Oh..." she whispers momentarily stunned. She does recover quickly however and places her wine glass down on the night stand.

"Mulder...you shouldn't have, you know."

I just shrug and grin.

She takes the bag gingerly, "Thank you Mulder," she adds gently touching my shoulder. Her hand shakes a little but she gets herself admirably under control again, and pulls the bag into her lap. She opens the bag and pulls out the book first.

"Oh good," she exclaims with a pleased smile.

"So, you haven't read it then?"

"Nope. I knew you'd remember."

"*Bag of Bones* is in the mail to your mother."

"I knew you'd remember that too," she replies quietly.

"There's more," I add.

"Oh?" she raises an eyebrow.

"Yup."

Walter sits back quietly, letting us enjoy the moment, sipping his wine and grinning a little. He looks sort of like Father Christmas. I've always kind of wondered what he'd look with a beard. Nah - I like that chiseled chin too much.

"Oh Mulder, for heaven's sake. Are these supposed to replace the one's I lost in Wisconsin?"

I come back from my momentary reverie to see Scully holding up the gold ear rings. I chuckle.

"Mes oui."

"Yeah, what the heck are those anyway? He wouldn't let me see them in the store."

Scully proffers said ear baubles towards Walter. He gives me an exasperated look.

"You said she'd be able to wear these in the office."

"Well, what's wrong with little cows? I thought they were cute. I mean look at the detail - you can tell they're Holsteins."

Walter peers at the gold ear rings very closely.

"You're blind. These are Guernseys."

"What? Son of a bitch, I've been defrauded! I knew I should have flashed my ID. That sales clerk assured me they were Holsteins."

"You should have let me flash my ID, Mulder. After all, who's the boss around here?" Walter rumbles, giving Scully back the ear rings with a flourish, "the clerk wouldn't have dared cross an AD - unlike some smart ass agents under him dare to do," he teases, getting in on the act.

"Well...we'll show him tomorrow. We have to go down there and tell that miscreant he's committed a federal crime - cheated a federal officer - two - no three federal officers. We'll put the fear of God in him and..."

By this time Scully is helpless with laughter. Walter is laughing too, and spills wine on his sweater.

"Oh damn!" he yelps, "I gotta get this off. I'll be back in a minute," he adds, getting up to go in the master bathroom. We hear the water running and he's mumbling, cursing himself out a little. Scully and I look at each other and smile wide.

"He's ok, Mulder, you know," she nods, rather tipsy.

"Yeah, he grows on you. Are you going to dig for the last gift?" 

"There's a third?"

"Good things come in threes."

"Except three on a match."

"Oh please - let's not go there."

She chuckles and sticks her hand back in the bag.

"I'm not going to come up with something hanging off my finger am I?" she winces.

"Scully!" I huff.

"All right, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt."

I snuggle closer to her and she pulls out the last small jewelry box and opens it. Her face goes instantly soft. I smile.

"Do you like them?"

"They're beautiful," she whispers taking one of the orchid ear rings out and holding it up into the light. The tiny crystal flashes and glints, reflected in her brilliant blue eyes.

"You're beautiful," I reply quietly.

She smiles a little and I bend forward and place a chaste kiss on her forehead.

"Thank you Mulder," she strokes my shoulder.

Walter clears his throat, "Uh, I thought I'd just clear away the plates..."

Scully and I move apart a little, and I smile up at Walter.

"Hey, we didn't watch any of those videos. You guys want to watch some tapes?"

Scully looks at me with suspicion.

"Not you too!? I own other types of tapes you know."

"Well with your track record can you blame me?" Scully crosses her arms and glares.

"Well for your information Ms. Doubting Tomasina - I brought The Avengers..."

"Confess you borrowed them..." Walter chuckles. I give him a withering look and he barks a quick laugh.

"Ah, ha!" Scully exclaims, wagging a finger at me, "I knew it." 

"Well, if that's the way you're going to be...I just won't tell you I have Dr. No and Goldfinger too."

"Sean Connery? Ooh, now your talking!" Scully enthuses.

"You like Sean Connery?" Walter chimes in from the area of the dresser where he's picking up the dinner plates.

"He's the only 007 in my opinion. "

"Bond, James Bond," Walter replies, doing a dead on imitation of the man himself.

"Oh for God sakes - you're both Connery fans?"

"What's not to like?" Walter asks.

"Right. He's a suave secret agent and..." Scully begins.

"and he has a great car..." Walter adds.

"and a luscious accent..."

"he keeps himself in shape..."

"oh, he certainly does..."

I'm just staring at this impromptu tribute to Mr. Connery in amazement.

"Well he's...I don't know - he's just not my type," I reply archly.

Scully and Walter stare at me in amused disbelief, and then Scully turns to Walter.

"You were right, Walter - he doesn't have any taste at all."

"Hey!" I laugh and goose her. She flinches and tries to tickle me back. Walter bows out, picking the other two plates up as Scully and I wrestle a little on the bed. Finally I give up, because Scully's tickling is fast and accurate and I don't want Walter to find out just how ticklish I really am. Finally we break it off.

"So, I take it we're watching..." I manage to breathe out.

Scully looks at Walter deferring to him to make the choice.

"Dr. No, then Goldfinger."

Scully smiles.

"Ok, we'll rack up Dr. No as soon as you get back, Walter."

"Let me give you a hand with those dishes," Scully volunteers. To her credit she manages to get across the room without tottering too much from the wine.

Later...

"You know, Walter - this film has the best of both worlds..."

"Yeah, you've got that right," Walter grins taking another sip of his wine.

We already watched Dr. No with amusing running commentary a la MST3K from me, and nagging at me to shut up from Scully and Walter. Now, we're watching Goldfinger and Connery and the Golden Girl to be, Shirley Eaton, are on the large screen TV.

"Mulder?"

"What?"

"I didn't know she snored," Walter whispers glancing over me at Scully.

We're all lined up now against the headboard so we had the best view of the TV. All of us changed into our jammies in an unspoken agreement to get as comfortable and relaxed as possible. I get the impression that we're all trying our hardest, with a little help from the wine, to make a connection. The beginning of a deeper friendship. A good-natured camaraderie that will last past this holiday and into the hard days ahead. I've never seen Walter unwind and unbend quite as much as he has over the last few hours. He's trying really hard to relate to Scully as a woman - a human being - and not just one of his agents who still happens to be slightly afraid of him.

Scully is making a valiant effort to accept Walter on those terms too. You know I have an idea that part of the reason he was making her nervous, besides the boss and the *J.O.B.* thing was the fact that well...he is a man. I think maybe she thought he was going to support some kind of share and share a like - with Dana Scully as the unlucky monkey in the middle. But after talking to him I think she's got things straight - she realizes that Walter is anything but straight. He has absolutely no interest in monkey business. Unless it's spanking the monkey -mine. And now it's droll, but a tad annoying I have to admit, to watch her talk to him like...well probably like she'd talk to another woman about me. They're ganging up on me a little. I can sense it. But what the hell. If a little behind my back - *isn't he a mensche sometimes* Mulder bashing will keep this thing going, I can live with it.

I'm just glad she's talking to him at all. When we brought Walter into the fold here, they explained their earlier tete a tete as well. I'm glad they had that dialogue. Big time. I have to say it doesn't surprise me. Great minds think alike and those two together are going to be one hell of a team if we can make this work. I have hope now that we will.

For my part I'm trying to just go with the flow. No pressure. No assumptions. No expectations. No bullshit on my part. God that will be hard. But like I said - what the hell. Whatever it's going to take to get this to fly - I'm the guy.

So, here we are, seated in front of the big screen TV, in a semi-darkened room since right now the cathode ray tube is the only light illuminating us. Three little Feds all in a row and I think we all feel more at peace on this earth then we have in a very long time.

Walter and I sip wine since there's still quite a bit left. Scully held up fairly well but the wine and large meal finally got to her and she's sleeping, curled up and snoring gently against my side. I answer his whispered question and we continue to talk in an undertone.

"Only when she's had a little too much to drink," I reply fondly and stroke her hair carefully.

"She's...she's a little different then I expected..." Walter whispers.

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, I don't know - more earthy...less..."

"The Ice Queen."

"Yeah, I guess. I knew that wasn't a fair view of her -that rep - but..."

"Well she has it at the bureau for a reason, Walter. It's protection. I mean you have to relate to that, Mr. Surly AD-Man." 

"Oh yeah."

"She's got a lot to offer Walter."

"I'm beginning to see that, Mulder," he replies quietly, finishing his wine.

"Look, I'd better go downstairs and crash. I'm losing it myself here."

"Downstairs? There's plenty of room in the bed."

"Uh uh."

"Oh come on. Just curl up next to me. We're adults. And hell, we're drunk enough you know we'll be sawing wood as soon as our heads hit the pillow."

"Well it's your funeral, babe. You're the one lying next to the foot that may kick your ass."

"I'll take my chances. Now go to sleep, schweetheart," I quietly Bogie snarl at him.

"All right, all right," he grumbles, taking off his glasses and putting them on the night stand next to him along with his wine glass. He takes the remote that's lying there too and turns off all the electronics. The room is plunged into darkness. Walter pulls the covers back and slides under next to me. I feel him brush his lips gently against my forehead.

"Night, Fox."

"Sweet Dreams, Walter."

Sometime during the night I hear Scully stir. She struggles to sit up next to me. I open one eye carefully and stare up at her through my eyelashes. She looks bewildered and disorientated for a moment, brushing her hair back behind her ears. As her eyes adjust, so do mine and I can see her peer over past me at Walter's form. Walter's snoring sounds like a 747 flight out of Dulles International.

"Shit," she hisses.

I'm instantly alert but stay still. Oh God, she's angry because we're three in a bed. Christ I've screwed the pooch again here. When will I ever learn? Stupid Mulder. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

But then I hear her chuckle a little and my thoughts and breath stop at once. She reaches over my body and pushes Walter's shoulder. When he doesn't respond she pushes a little harder.

"Hmm. Wwwhat?" Walter asks sleepily.

"Roll over Walter, you're snoring like a buzz saw."

"Umph. Sorry," he mumbles but he does as requested, rolling so that his butt rests against mine. I let my breath out in a relieved sigh. Scully gets carefully out of bed and goes into the master bathroom, shutting the door. Later I hear the toilet flush and she comes out and crawls under the covers and snuggles up next to me. I fall asleep with the sensation of her gentle breath playing against my chest.

I know during the night I dreamt of them, of us, all of us together. Well it has been my waking fantasy after all. So, the erotic images came to me even more easily as I slept. Give me a break. At least it wasn't a fucking nightmare starring a certain Czech stud muffin and murderer.

As I rise into wakefulness I can still almost feel the dream. Sense not so much Walter's hard, hot, slick sex thrusting into me or Scully's soft, hot, slick folds as I thrust into her, but rather the protective, comforting glow of love that envelops me as we enter each other and are entered by each other. It's as if they melt into me - completely - and I into them. We are truly one, and the joy in that feeling is something my mind can't even bend around. There are no words. I wake up feeling mellow and serene. I stretch with an almost post coital warmth suffusing my body. I'm just thanking the powers that banish hangovers when I notice the bed's...empty.

What the...shit...

My momentary panic that both Scully and Walter have decided to ditch *me* for a change is distracted by a muffled thud. The first thud is soon followed by another. I whip my head around to look at the windows on the other side of the room. I can just make out something hitting the pane behind the still drawn gauze curtains. My brow furrows and I swing my legs out over the edge of the bed and traipse over to draw the curtains aside. Just as I do so, a snowball splats the pane, right between my eyes.

As the snow slides down the glass I glare down at the kids I expect to see in the yard and instead spy Dana *Calamity Jane* Scully, all kitted up in her parka, boots and gloves, cocking her arm to lob another missile my way. I should have known. She has a dead on aim. To my benefit and endless thanks.

Walter is standing next to her in his military issue pullover hat and the black down coat and matching gloves, looking up and laughing like hell. Then he says something to her and she drops the snowball because obviously he's alerted her that the target is aware there will be incoming.

I pull the curtains wide and put my hands on my hips in mock indignation. Scully waves her hands and then points off to the side. I start to laugh. They've built a snowman under the window. It snowed a lot during the night so they had plenty of snow to use. The thing is big so I know Walter must have put the head on. It's as tall as he is, if not taller. Frosty's dressed up in someone's old jeans jacket and a stocking cap they must have gotten from the coat closet downstairs. It looks like Scully made the face - old Frosty has lipstick lines for a mouth. I clap in appreciation and they both take a bow on either side of their joint creation.

Then Scully is looking at Walter very pointedly and saying something to him. He's suddenly scowling and shaking his head *NO* but I can tell he's finding it hard not to agree. Finally she walks over and pushes Walter on the arm.

He shrugs and I can just make out his next words by reading his lips, "All right, you asked for it."

My mouth drops open because he's getting down on the ground and...oh for God's sake I thought I was the only man around that Scully could ever talk into doing...snow angels. I start to bellow laughter as Walter S. Skinner, tight assed Assistant Director for the FBI waves his arms and legs around in the snow making a perfectly, and expertly executed snow angel like he's been doing it all his life. Scully is clapping and laughing as well.

Walter gets up finally, his back covered in snow, and Scully helps him to brush it off. He looks up at the window and gives me the finger. I laugh harder. Then he points at me and at the snow angel. OK, I get the message. He wants revenge. I'm going to have to grovel in the snow at his feet or I'll never hear the end of it.

I nod my head *Yes* and hold up 5 fingers to they'll know I want to at least take a piss before I hit the cold. But before I can turn from the window and go to the can, Scully waves for my attention. Walter steps back slightly closer to the house, so he's out of my sight. All I can see in that moment is Scully, alone against the snow. She looks so lovely, so...I stare transfixed as she lies down in the fresh snow and begins to make her snow angel for me. I stare because in that moment my mind is drawn again to that beautiful Rossetti angel on the tree downstairs and how much it's exquisite and delicate design mirrors the angelic and precious woman moving in the snow below me. Tears come into my eyes and my breath catches in my throat at the image. I smile and put my right palm flat against the window.

I mouth the words, "I love you," to her. Walter comes back into my field of vision, looks at her in wonder and then looks back up at me. I know he realizes immediately what I'm thinking because in that instant he's seen the resemblance too.

I look deeply into his somber brown eyes, and mouth the identical words, "I love you," and then, "I love you both." He nods and smiles gently in understanding, and so does Scully as she sits up in the snow.

I turn from the window. "Merry Christmas, Mulder," I whisper aloud. "For once...Merry Christmas," I add in thanks. I smile wide as I prepare to join them.

  
THE END OF THE WHOLE STORY

 

* * *

 

TITLE:  The Threefold Charm - Part I  
NAME: frogdoggie  
E-MAIL:   
CATEGORY: SRA  
RATING: NC-17. M/SK. M/SK/SC eventually. This story contains SLASH. VERY GRAPHIC CONSENSUAL SEX BETWEEN MEN. SOME M/F SEX TOO. So, if you don't like that type of thing -STOP NOW! Forewarned is forearmed. Proceed with caution.  
SUMMARY: Mulder, Skinner and Scully's relationship deepens and takes a new turn - with complications . The action in "The Threefold Charm" takes place in April and May of 1999 - several months after "Tripartite" This story is the fifth installment in a series. Obviously you may want to read my previous stories, "Baton Rouge" (winner of the 1998 Spooky Award for Outstanding SK/M Romance), "Discordia Concors", "Embarrass du Choix" and "Tripartite" to understand this narrative. Those stories can be found on my web site at:  
http://www.squidge.org/3wstop  
or my mirror site at: http://tv.acmecity.com/scary/50  
FEEDBACK - YES PLEASE, AND THANK YOU SIR, CAN I HAVE ANOTHER? Comments, suggestions and healthy debate are always welcome. Flames? I use them to roast weenies, hamburgers and Italian sausages on the grill.  
TIMESPAN/SPOILER WARNING.: This takes place well into the new season but we have now departed from the events that are occurring in it quite a bit. Mulder and Scully still have the X-Files and Skinner is still their boss at the moment. I mention "Triangle" because that would fit in nicely with the M/SK/SC scenario of this story. So, I've kind of reinvented the mytharc for my slash AU. Sorry if that bothers you - feel free to go elsewhere if it does. I won't mind.  
KEYWORDS: story angst slash Skinner Mulder Scully NC-17  
DISCLAIMER: Fox Mulder, Walter Skinner, Dana Scully, Margaret Scully, Jeffrey Spender, the LGM and all other X-Files characters belong to Chris Carter, Ten-Thirteen Productions and 20th Century FOX Broadcasting. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from their use. Dennis Carr and Phil Meyers are mine. If you want to use them fine, but please ask first.  
***Author's notes: I've attempted to bring in some of the mytharc elements from Season 6 at this juncture. So, Mulder and Scully are now without the X-Files and Walter Skinner is no longer their boss. But the scenario for why this happened is a bit different. You might say it has a frogdoggie twist. This is before S.R. 819 - which if I had anything to say about it never happened anyway (or had a much different ending!)  
The story grew and grew like Topsy. As a result "Charm" is divided into three sections. It will be more easy to post and put on my web sites this way. So the entire story consists of Part I, Part II and Part III.  
BTW: Author's epilogue at the end of Part III.  
One last note: This is dedicated to "The Chatterers". You know who you are. You know what you do. Voodoo. The Hoodoo that most people don't dare do. You have my deepest thanks.

* * *

The Threefold Charm - Part I by frogdoggie

Come, sit thee down upon this flowery bed,  
While I thy amiable cheeks do coy,  
And stick musk-roses in they sleek smooth head,  
And kiss thy fair large ears, my gentle joy.

  * Titania to Bottom: Shakespeare, "A Midsummer Night's Dream" 



December 31, 1998. Crossroads, Maine. 11 PM EST.

"Walter?"

"Hmmm?"

"Wake up. We have an hour to go till the ball drops."

"I could make a comment at this juncture but I'll let you off easy."

"Well, I'm not letting you off. You were snoring."

"Sorry, champagne does that to me sometimes. Maybe I should say Happy New Year now and go back to sawing wood."

"Oh come on. You can keep your eyes propped open for an hour. Although I have to admit - you did look kind of cute with your mouth hanging open."

"Oh sure, I bet. Was that Scully on the phone?"

"Yup. She just wanted to say Happy New Year."

"Ah. Good. Wish she could have stayed through tonight, though. I would have liked to wish her a Happy New Year in person."

"Yeah, me too. She said the same. But she really did want to be with her mom."

"Understandable."

"Yeah."

"Her mom's a rare woman, Mulder."

"Unquestionably."

"Just like her daughter, Fox. You're lucky to be have Scully on your side."

"*We're* lucky to have her on *our* side."

"Yeah, well..."

"Ah hell, Walter, you know she's ok with you now. She's...I think she's going to be ok with all of this now."

"I guess."

"Guess?"

"OK, I know. But I think we got off lucky."

"Crap yeah. I know I did. I acted like such a moron."

"I'm not gonna go there. We've been down that road."

"It isn't worth a return trip?"

"Exactly. But you know, Mulder..."

"Yeah?"

"Well...I just appreciate Scully meeting me halfway. It was hard for her. I admire her for having the guts to accept this arrangement. I really liked talking to her too, Fox. She...shit, she's got balls." 

"Oh yeah, no question there. She'd have to have steel ones to get along with you anyway, Mr. *I eat rebellious agents for breakfast* Skinner."

"Hey, I'm trying to cut back. Come on - give me a break."

"Too rich for your diet?"

"Too much acid indigestion."

"I see."

"You should, Mr. *Ditch Me* Mulder."

"Hey! I've been a good boy there myself."

"Yeah, yeah."

"Well I have. Ask Scully."

"Ask Scully, Ask Sculleeeee..."

"Fuck you, Mr. Skinner."

"Is that a request?"

"Not if I'm going to give you acid indigestion."

"I'll take a Pepcid AC."

"You're bent."

"The better to get fucked, my dear."

"God, what a potty mouth."

"I was a Marine, remember? And you like it when I talk dirty." 

"You have a point."

"Of course."

"Walter?"

"Yes?"

"Any New Year's resolutions?"

"Not really. I always break them anyway. You?"

"None."

"Why?"

"Same reason."

"Great minds think alike."

"There you go. And Walter..."

"Yeah, babe?"

"I hope...well I just...I hope 1999 is as good as the end of 1998. Because these last few days have been the best. I mean it."

"Mulder..."

"Yeah?"

"They've been the best for me too. You've been the best for me, Fox."

"I...thanks, Walter."

"Believe me, it's been my pleasure."

"So, it's almost 1999, big guy."

"Mulder - you want to start 1999 out right?"

"How?"

"Come back to bed and I'll show you."

"Now you're talking stud muffin. Shift over."

"Snuggle up, Fox."

"No problem. Can...would you like to hold me?"

"Always."

"God, you are so warm, Walter."

"High metabolism I guess. And you're subtle charms have an affect, of course "

"The heat feels good."

"Oh yeah. Inside and out."

"Beats the fireplace."

"All to hell."

"Fox? Hey. What's up?"

"Oh, I was just, you know...I like the way this cross lies on your chest."

"Over my heart?"

"Yeah."

"I like it too. I haven't taken it off."

"I've noticed. I...I...really..."

"Shhh. It's ok babe. It means the world to me. Just like the man who gave it to me."

"Love you."

"Yeah? Well come here then..."

"Hmmm. That's nice."

"So the old man sucks face pretty good, hey?"

"Lord, you have such a way with words, Walter."

"Just call me Mr. Romantic."

"You mean Mr. Clean..."

"What?"

"Nothing. Shut up and kiss me again."

"Mouthy bast....mmmmm."

"So what else did you have in mind, Mr. Romantic?"

"How about this?"

"Oh yes, that's very nice, Mr. Skinner. But I think you can go lower."

"Oh yeah? You trust me to take matters into my own hands?"

"If you'd like, sir."

"Oh yeah. I'd like, agent."

"Hmmm. Ah yes. I knew you were handy."

"Years of practice - on myself."

"Well I'm glad you saved the real thing for me, lover."

"Me too, Fox."

"Jesus, Walter. I love your touch."

"I love touching you - all over. It's a real turn on getting you up, though, baby."

"God, no kidding. Oh man..."

"You ok? Tell me what you want..."

"Round the tip. Yeah, that's right. A little softer though...I...this is such a turn on."

"Like this, over the whole glans?"

"Shit, yeah, that feels good."

"You're wet for me already, baby."

"You know it."

"Tastes good."

"Man, you are such a tease...oh man...."

"And you're not? Look at that ass wiggling."

"You're complaining?"

"Does this feel like I'm complaining."

"Walter! God no!"

"Thought not."

"Ohhhhh. Oh....please..."

"Ok, hang on. I'm gonna slick you up a little, ok?"

"Natural slick."

"You got it. Pre-cum and spit, baby."

"Oh hell yeah. Oh, that's good."

"So nice and wet, baby. Wet, and so sweet."

"Jesus...you're making me so hot."

"Oh yeah, come on. Sweat for me, babe."

"You want me to get you hard too?"

"Can you? I can wait. You're...."

"I wanna. I can..."

"Ok, it's ok, sure. Do me."

"Tell me if it's good."

"Take it from...yeah...all of it."

"This ok?"

"Harder."

"OK?"

"Yeah. Keep that...oh yeah, that's it."

"Walter...sorry, you're... right. I'm not sure...I...can..."

"How about no hands here, lover?"

"Oh God...."

"Tell me..."

"God. I...Oh shit...Walter. Yeah, come up here. I..."

"You want me on top?"

"I wanna feel all of you. Over me. Hold me, ok? I wanna feel your skin."

"This good? I'm not crushing you am I?"

"No, s'wonderful. I love this weight. It...you're so hard. I..." 

"You want my..."

"Yeah, your cock, right there. Um...you want me to move like this?"

"Yeah, I...lover...just...keep moving like that..."

"Is that good for you too?"

"Fox, it's more than good."

"You're getting more verbal, Walter. I like it."

"And you're getting less talkative. I like that."

"You like that moaning, hey?"

"You know it...oh Lord. Can you..."

"Faster?"

"A little."

"How's this?"

"Yeah, lover."

"Harder?"

"You know me so well."

"Profiling. A thousand and one uses."

"Like duct tape."

"Duct tape? I don't wanna know."

"Yeah, later. Less talk, more fuckin'."

"Now who knows who so well?"

"Getting to know you..."

"Jesus, Walter don't sing. I'm gonna lose it here."

"That's the idea, baby."

"You asshole."

"Shut up and fuck, Fox."

"Ok. I know when to keep my mouth shut and my legs open.

"Oh yeah? Well, spread your legs a little more, babe."

"How's that?"

"Yeah, s'good. You're one hell of a fuck, you know that baby? So responsive - such a..."

"Slut?"

"You wanna be my slut? My boy?"

"I wanna be anything you want."

"Then be my...my equal, share this, lover. That's what I like." 

"I like it when you're over me though, holding me like this. It's..I feel so..."

"I know Fox. I like it too. A lot. A whole lot."

"Can I? I mean, you want me to..."

"Yeah, wrap 'em round. I like that, baby."

"Walter...I...love holding you this way."

"Yeah. Jesus, that feels...man...just wonderful."

"For me too."

"So good. Christ you're...God, can you move."

"Flexible?"

"You know it. No shit."

"How's this?"

"Oh man..."

"Oh yeah, I love the way you get it up for me. I can feel every inch Walter."

"It's all for you baby. All for..."

"Jesus! I...I'm not...I...can't last. It's...Ohhhhh."

 

"That's it baby, come on, do it. You're beautiful. Beautiful." 

"Oh God...."

"Let it go, Fox. I wanna feel it."

"Uh, yeah, Oh, ohhhh...."

"Let it on out, babe. Christ that's fuckin' fine. You're almost there, lover."

"Fuck....oh fuck....I...oh fff..."

"Oh yeah you're fuckin' me baby. You're doing me too."

"Uhhhhh...Oh...."

"Doing me so good."

"OH GODDDD!"

"Babe, oh yeah, that's the way. So, hot, slick. Good. So good." 

"Ohhhh....Ohhh....uhhhhhh."

"So sweet. I've got you. Do it. I love you, Fox."

"I'm ssssorry, sorry, Walter...I'm so sorry....I...I'm..."

"S'ok. Keep moving...Don't...oh Christ yeah...Fox...I...I have to..."

"Shhh, just go with it...as hard as you need it. God, I love you Walter."

"I....uhhhhhh..."

 

"I know big man...almost there. S'ok, s'good. Feels so good..." 

"Uhhhh, fuck...CHRIST!"

"Oh yeah, there you go, that's it. Oh man...Oh yeah."

xXx

JOURNAL OF FOX MULDER

Thursday, April 1, 1999

April Fools. And I'm the biggest one of all. How could I have missed what was going to happen? I should have seen this coming down. Should have heard the rolling bureaucratic thunder, seen the corporate lightening. I should have sensed the wafting ozone created by the gears in the heads of pencil necked suits. Should have felt the trembling of the earth under many tapping impatient heels. Shit, at least I should have smelled...the smoke.

Scully and I have been shut down. The X-Files are officially kaput - closed - circular filed with extreme prejudice as they say in the realm of assassins.

The Attorney General of the United States and the FBI brass jointly decided on March 1 (beware the Ides of March for crying out loud), that my efforts to reconstruct the incinerated X-Files using state of the art techniques was a total waste of time. A squandering of two valuable agents who could better be used elsewhere. A waste of prime basement storage space - and worst of all - a waste of the tax payers money.

And how did they get this idea lodged in their heads? Well, remember what Jerkwad Suspender hissed at me after our little tiff in that hotel stairway on Halloween? Yeah, well he made sure the fight wasn't over until he had the ultimate victory. As Scully would say - the little weasel. I'd say rat bastard but that pejorative is already in use -unfortunately.

Spender saw to it that everyone who would listen knew how difficult the file reconstruction was proving to be for me and Scully. He let it be known how much time we were spending in the lab since our last case, and not in the field. Never mind that Walter non too subtly reminded our so called superiors that we had been in the field almost constantly since Antarctica. Never mind that he reminded them I was wounded on that last VCS case and that light duty in the lab with Scully wasn't a bad idea under the circumstances following my medical leave of absence. None of it made any difference. Spender and the snakes he reports too had the collective ears of our superiors. They were listening and listening well.

Spender brayed loud and long about how Scully and I had been in the field - but not on many X-Files. We'd been loaned out more and more to VCS and every other FBI department you could name with the exception of possibly *Building and Maintenance*. So why work on the X-Files when there wasn't that much left to investigate? His incessant whining on that point was backed up by the fact that those loan directives had come down from Mr. Louis Freeh himself a lot of the time. Walter had no choice in the matter - it was his lot to grit his teeth, say yes sir and then...Mulder, Scully - sic 'em. And we always got our man. That was the problem. We're good. The FBI and the Attorney General like good. So Scully and I got it in the end. And it hurt like a son of a bitch.

We had an OPR hearing this morning. The decision to sever us from the X-Files came down this afternoon. I thought maybe with Jana Cassidy out of the picture we might have a fighting chance. She flew the coop at the end of February for that security job in Los Angeles. But her replacement - the wicked witch of the East - AD Maslin, needs a second house dropped on her. Crap, what a pit bull. She grabbed hold, locked her jaws and wouldn't let go of us until she ground down to the bone.

Walter tried to stop it. He really did. He sat on that OPR board and bucked them all until he couldn't make any headway. In the end he voted with them. What could he do? It hurt to think he made it unanimous but I could understand why. We still need someone on the inside even though it will be difficult for him to help us. His voting against would have tipped his hand even more than he'd taken a chance at tipping it already. It's better if he lays low and works from behind the scenes.

He was suspended for three days without pay for a loud, verbal altercation he had with AD Kersh in the hallway afterwards. We were re-assigned to Kersh you see. Walter took exception to Kersh's announcement that he would whip us into shape or see us broken and given the boot out the door. Well, not exactly in those words but Walter got the message. So did Kersh. And Walter's taking a forced vacation. Freeh isn't really calling it a suspension. He told Walter to take three days off to think over his actions. To Freeh's credit - Kersh got the same.

But, the other shoe dropped and it became apparent that the little vacation isn't going to be the only pain in the gut. When he returns, Walter has been ordered to have no contact with us. Since he's no longer our boss there is no reason for him to...support us in any manner whatsoever. In other words - someone (Gee, guess fucking who) doesn't want us to have any help on the inside any longer. In the smoking bastard's plans and the plans of the rest of the Godforsaken Consortium - we're to be hung out to dry. In their eyes we'll be broken and bereft without any help and without the X-Files. Yeah, well guess again dirt bags.

Scully and I won't be giving up and neither will Walter Skinner. Dana Scully and I are reinvested with the faith to go on in the quest. Scully stands strong, brave and defiant. She's my anchor. I'll kill anyone who tries to separate us again. Walter is the rock for us both. He's on our side and won't leave us swinging in the wind. He promised me he'd never betray us. He's a man of his word. No matter how hard it is for the three of us to work together, and be compatriots and friends together - no one, least of all Old Smokey and his hellspawn of a son, will stop us. And I'll see them both in hell before they keep Walter and I apart. I love Walter Skinner too much to let that happen. I know he feels the same. The black hearted sons of bitches who think they are pulling the strings are in for a surprise. To quote the lyrics of one of my favorite Judas Priest songs "You've Got Another Thing Comin'".

xXx

 

* * *

 

xXx

April 15, 1999. Johnson Creek, Wisconsin. High Noon CST.

"Scully, can you hold up? I've got cow shit on my shoe."

"Oh. Ok. Sorry, Mulder."

Scully stares at me while I bend down and, using a stick, scrape the wad of cow crap off my heel. Bloody hell. Wisconsin cows. How do I not love thee and let me not count the ways.

"So where are we?" I ask, tossing the stick as far as I can throw it.

"The residence of Clement J. Obradovich. Dairy farmer. Purchaser of mass quantities of fertilizer."

"Mass quantities, Primat?"

"Yes, Belzar, and since he isn't from France..."

"Hey, we haven't seen him yet. He could be a Conehead..."

Scully sighs heavily. As much as we'd like to continue this distracting glib, repartee, the sad matter at hand is that we have to make our way up the rain soaked and mud encrusted dirt driveway to old Clement's door. She gets serious.

"Well, Conehead or not - he has purchased an inordinate amount of the right type of chemical fert...

"Right. And one wonders why since he's practically buried in it." I wrinkle my nose and take in the many contented cows grazing in the field next to Clem's driveway.

"Exactly. So, why would he buy practically a ton of it?"

"To make a bomb?"

"I knew there was a reason they pay you the big bucks Mulder." 

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Well, let's get this over with, Agent Scully. Come on." I shrug. We leave the side of our rental Ford and pick our way up the water logged drive and across the muddy farm yard to the door of the white clapboard farmhouse.

We stand together outside the front door as we've stood outside so many other front doors in the past. We glance at each other and Scully indicates that I may do the honors. I knock and we both wait expectantly for the answer.

Presently, the inside door creaks open behind the outer screen door and we're greeted by a middle aged, tall, thin individual blinking in the afternoon light.

"Mr. Clement J. Obradovich?" Scully asks.

"Yes?" the grizzled farmer queries carefully.

Scully takes out her ID and flips it open. Clem zeroes in on her hand as she begins the familiar drill.

"I'm Agent Dana Scully of the FBI and this is..."

...As far as she gets. Clement J. Obradovich turns on a dime and rabbits through the house towards the back door faster than you can say *Energizer Bunny*.

"Fuck!" I blurt, yanking the door open to give chase, gun drawn. It slams back as I pick up speed after the rapidly retreating Wisconsin farmer. I figure my longer legs will help me to overtake the guy. He's tall and lanky but I'm taller and no slouch in the 100 yard dash department.

"Stop, Federal Agent!" I bellow. Old Clem doesn't even glance over his shoulder.

Scully leaves the porch at a dead run. She's heading around the side of the house to the back door. We know what the other is going to do without telegraphing our intentions to the perp. I know if she can make it in time, she'll try to be waiting, gun drawn on this idiot.

Mr. Obradovich smacks hard into a small table in the back hallway of his house, slowing down his head long rush slightly. I'm almost on him but in a sudden burst of desperate speed he slams out the back door and is met with a mud spattered and irate Dana K. Scully.

"Federal Agent! Stop and put your hands in the air! I'm armed and I won't hesitate to shoot."

Just as she yells her order, I plow into Clement's back and we both go down in a wet, dirty heap. Somehow I manage to keep my gun in my hand for once. Thank God for small favors.

"I'm federal agent Fox Mulder! FBI, buddy! Lie still or I'll break your damn arm," I hiss out as the farmer grunts and twists under me. Mud...and other odiferous farm offal successfully coats both of us so that we look like a couple of

Tootsie Rolls. Hell. This coat's toast and as for my suit -good night Irene. I'm really pissed now. I slam Mr. Obradovich's head down into the ground once, hard.

"Look, Clem. This is hurting you a lot more than it's hurting me. Give it up, all right!?" I growl, getting the cuffs around his wrist with my free hand. I holster my weapon quickly and wrench the cuffs around the other wrist.

Scully stands by, gun trained on the perp, waiting patiently with raised eyebrows while we struggle. Finally Obradovich gets the idea that I just may be serious and the energy goes out of his body in one mighty *oomph*. He allows me to snap the cuffs then, and I haul the sullen dairy farmer to his encrusted feet.

"You didn't have to crack my skull," he grumbles.

"Yeah, right," I wheeze. I think I bruised a rib in the struggle. Or maybe it's just my recent wound kicking up. Either way - I'm going to need a soak in the tub tonight back at the Holiday Inn Express in Johnson Creek. Balls.

"Mr. Obradovich, I would advise you that you are in deep trouble, sir. Shall I read him his rights, Agent Mulder?" Scully asks reholstering her weapon. I'm so out of breath I probably couldn't get through the Miranda at this point. I nod, grateful.

"What are you accusing me of doing?" Obradovich interrupts.

"What did you do? You resisted arrest for starters," I answer incredulously. What the fuck.

"Sir, you are under suspicion of purchasing large quantities of fertilizer similar to the type used in the Oklahoma City bombing..." 

"Fertilizer?"

"Yes."

"You mean you aren't here about my taxes?"

Scully and I stare at each other and then we both focus on Obradovich, eyebrows raised high. He stares back with a look of puzzlement and defiance warring on his face. When neither one of us have an answer he finally grates out in a wavering voice.

"I thought you were coming to get me because I haven't paid my federal income tax in 7 years. I panicked and ran. So, fuck you." 

Fuck us indeed. For Christ sake. I turn him around towards his back door, none too gently, and push him forward.

"Sir, I need to advise you not to say anything further before we've read you your rights." Scully hastens to advise the grumbling farmer as I push him ahead of me.

"What do I care. I'm up shits creek without a paddle here."

"Interesting choice of words, Mr. Obradovich," I agree in disgust. "And I think you owe us a couple of towels and a more detailed explanation, anyway."

"That makes three of us," he snarls as we walk up the steps and onto the back porch, muddy footprints stretching behind in our wake. 

xXx

The Holiday Inn Express, Hwy 26, Johnson Creek, Wisconsin

8 PM CST.

I'm lying on the bed, in my room, staring at the ceiling. My rib still aches but the pain isn't as bad as it was before my hot bath. The TV is on in the background. The SciFi Channel. An old Star Trek rerun. I'm not really watching. I feel...adrift. Temporarily disconnected. I touch the bottom of my rib cage gently. The slight pain brings me back into focus just enough to feel annoyance. I purse my lips, going with the mood. It's better then this numb, lassitude. 

I still can't believe some records geek goofed that lead on Obradovich. Clement J. Obradovich, diary farmer, never purchased a single grain of fertilizer. His cousin, Clement A. Obradovich, soybean, corn and hay farmer, however did. Mr. Obradovich A. lives in Dodge County. Mr. Obradovich J lives in Jefferson County. Mr. Obradovich A., law abiding citizen with mucho planted acres has more than a legitimate need for the artificial cow shit. Mr. Obradovich J., tax dodger is in deep shit. We turned him into the IRS and he was yanked in on tax evasion charges later that very afternoon.

Scully and I could do nothing but drag our sorry mud stained asses back to the hotel to get cleaned up. Both of us were sore, dog tired and defeated even though we had told ourselves we wouldn't let that happen. Shit. It's damned hard when you've done nothing but count bags of fake cow crap and interrogate hapless John Q. Publics for weeks on end. I'm royally sick of it and so is Scully. But at least we have each other on the road. If she wasn't here I'd really go stark, raving mad.

She volunteered to go over to the Perkins that's planted right in front of the hotel to pick up our dinner order. We're staying in tonight. Neither one of us feels much like company. Except each others. As I muse dismally, a knock sounds softly on my door. I get up, cross the room, and look through the peep hole. Scully waves at me from outside, take out bags in hand. I smile, throw back the locks, open the door and usher her inside.

"Nice look for you," she chuckles at my white t-shirt shirt and Holstein cow imprint boxer briefs.

"Little did I know how appropriate these would be," I grin half-heartedly gesturing at my shorts.

"No shit."

"You mean cow sh..."

"Please. Skip it, Mulder. I want to have some appetite left," she smiles wanly. I search out the jeans I brought along and drag them on. Lucky I have them since my dress pants were muddy to the max. Scully pulls off her trench coat and hangs it up next to my garment bag in the small alcove off the bathroom. It looks like she managed to get the mud off it. Lucky those trenches are water proof and stain resistant. Even so, mine is still going to need dry cleaning at some point. Shit.

Scully's dressed in jeans and a light sweater this evening having changed out of her FBI daywear as well. Both of us opted for the tub soaks in our respective rooms after this afternoons debacle. Scully seems to have benefited from hers. She looks marginally more relaxed then she did earlier.

We both pull up a chair each at the table under the window, sit down and unpack the food. I empty the first bag, the one with the coffees in it. Scully takes the second bag and roots around for the Styrofoam boxes inside.

"What's it like out?" I ask, making desultory conversation. I lift the closed curtain back an inch to peer outside into the darkened parking lot.

"The rain's seems to have made itself scarce, thank God. I risked not taking my umbrella to the restaurant. Now if it will only stay clear."

"The early news said it's supposed to be sunny tomorrow."

"Good," she nods matter-of-factly.

"Yeah, I've sacrificed my last suit to the manure God," I grouch running a hand over my face. I guess it's lucky we're going back to DC tomorrow otherwise I'd have to find a dry cleaner. I still can't believe I forgot to pack a third suit. I should have known better. This is spring in the Wisconsin farmlands after all. Crap. Too much on my mind. Scully chuckles a bit at the lame joke and I smile more broadly in spite of my discomfiture. She still looks a little tired but so...I don't know - so sweet this evening. It's great to be in her company.

"Cheeseburger," she says, proffering a Styrofoam container my way, "and fries."

"Right, thanks," I smile gathering my food close.

She pulls out her soup and salad and both of us tuck into the repast as best as our suppressed appetites will allow. We don't converse much after we start eating. We just chew and sip in companionable silence. All too soon the food is gone and we have to face the idea that we should call it a night - in our separate rooms. 

Scully and I haven't been together as lovers since the show and blow incident with Walter on Halloween. I still have pangs of guilt over the fact that she walked in on us and I handled the issue so abysmally. I'm eternally grateful that she even deigned to patch it up with us both. I miss her in my bed but I'd miss her a hell of a lot more if she were out of my life altogether.

But the fact that we aren't having sex can be a bit...well it's difficult on the road. We used to have some of our hottest moments in motels across America. Oh mama, did we ever. And now that we're on the road again it's just dredging up those fond, frenetic memories. 

But I'm respecting her wishes not to resume our sexual relationship until she's ready. I more than understand her reasons and I don't disagree with her at all. It's just not easy because I love her so much and sharing pleasure with her was something that - ok, yeah, it wasn't just the sex - it helped beat back the loneliness you know. I'm sorry to be so weak sometimes. I need to work on it I guess. But God, I am just so lonely and horny.

The fact that I haven't been with Scully is exacerbated by the fact that I haven't been with Walter very much at all either, of course. The prohibition against us having any dealings with him has successfully made it almost impossible for me to even get a glimpse of him at work. Outside of work hasn't been any better. Oh, we've had a few clandestine meetings at our own cheap motels on the road. God, it's been tawdry. Sneaking around. I'm more accustomed to the Motel 6 venue but I think Walter is having a prissy fit over it. Renting a room by the hour is just not my man's style.

So, we've all been living a life of semi-enforced celibate loneliness. I'm back to the videos and Mr. Hand. I know Walter hates it, but he's doing the same. I wonder if Scully is getting reacquainted with Ms. Hand or Mr. Everready as well. Christ. I'd better not start thinking about that possibility right now. But, this has got to end one of these days. I'm gonna go blind and grow hair on my palms for sure if it doesn't. And my heart is breaking, my soul aching, from the damn loneliness. God help me. God help us all.

"Well, I'd better turn in," Scully yawns behind her right hand, rising with her discarded Styrofoam in the other. She heads over to the trash can near the rooms door and tosses in the containers.

"Oh. Uh, listen - you don't have to go yet. There's an Abbott and Costello film on AMC at 10 PM."

 

"Oh Mulder... I'm kind of beat."

"Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein."

"Really?"

"Yup."

"I've never seen that one."

She rolls her eyes. I know she'll stay and watch it with me. She's an Abbott and Costello fan too. This film is one of my favorites. I knows she's gonna love it. Besides, my hands are suddenly starting to shake a little. I...I just can't face another night totally alone. I don't give a shit about the sex. I just need to hear someone else breathing nearby - someone real and not on TV.

"Come on, you know you'll like it."

"Ok, I'll stay," she smiles.

We tidy up the rest of the litter from our meals. The half drained coffee cups get dumped into the bathroom sink before we discard them. Scully makes a quick trip to her room to brush her teeth. I decide to brush mine as well. That will save time in case I fall asleep. I just may. I'm pretty beat too. But, as I said - I didn't want to be alone tonight. Not at all. And I don't think Scully really did either. If I fall asleep maybe she will too - maybe we can just keep each other warm tonight.

When she returns, I offer her the bed but she opts for seating on the floor at the foot. She uses the bed's end as a back rest. I lay down on my stomach, full length, my head next to her shoulder so we can talk a little during the movie. I'm holding a pillow under my arms. I give her the remote and she turns on the TV and switches to AMC. The movie starts and we're chuckling together fairly quickly. I was right - she's really enjoying it.

But despite the pillow and the convivial distractions, I still can't get comfortable. Blast this rib. I'm just thinking about getting up for some Tylenol when Scully breaks into my thoughts.

"What's the matter?"

"What?"

"You haven't stopped wiggling around up there since the movie started. Are you ok?"

"Yeah, I'm really sorry. I think my rib is just sore from tackling Mr. Tax Evader this afternoon. I'm gonna get some Tylenol."

"I was afraid of that, Mulder. Would you like me to examine you?" she offers. She gets up and sits next to me on the bed.

"No, you don't have to bother," I shake my head. Looking into her intense blue eyes is suddenly telling me that having her touch me might be a bad idea. I sit up and move to get off the bed. It's time for the Tylenol. Most definitely.

"It's not a bother. I don't mind."

I stop on my route to the bathroom and the shaving kit that holds the Tylenol. Glancing back I sigh.

"Well...I might mind."

She stares at me and then what I'm getting at dawns on her.

"Oh."

"Yeah. Look Scully..." I begin, returning to sit next to her on the bed, "I...I'm sorry. I can't help the way I feel about you. If you start putting your hands all over me it's only going to make it worse."

"I'm the one who should be sorry Mulder. I didn't think."

"Well, it's ok. And I asked for it anyway when I invited you to stay in here. I...oh hell."

She looks down at her hands.

"Well I accepted didn't I?"

I study her carefully. She senses my scrutiny and looks up.

"Scully, I'm tired of sleeping alone." I whisper.

She lets out a shuddering sigh and touches my hand lightly.

"I guess I am too," she replies.

I draw her close and hug her tight.

"Can you stay? I swear to God I won't...I mean we can just sleep. I just need to feel you next to me tonight -ok?" I nuzzle the words into her hair. I feel the warm weight of her in my arms. It feels so right.

"I'd like to stay, Mulder," she whispers, looking up into my face. 

"You want to go to sleep then? We can always rent the video," I grin and gesture towards the TV.

"Yeah, it's a great comedy, but I'm dead on my feet," she smiles back.

I reach for the remote and turn off the TV.

"Ok. Hey, you can borrow one of my t-shirts if you'd like. There's a couple of clean ones in my garment bag,"

"Ok, great, Mulder. But I need to go back to my room for..."

"There's a complimentary toothbrush and uh, other stuff in the can - for in the morning," I offer.

She laughs, "Well then I guess I *am* all set. Thanks."

"No problem. I'm gonna get that Tylenol," I advise getting up to go in the can. I'll stay in there a bit to give her some privacy while she changes.

As I shut the door she says, "When you come out I still want to check that rib."

I smile, "Ok. Doc. I'll grin and bare it."

I hear her chuckling as I get the Tylenol and down it with a glass of water. I decide to take a piss as well. While I'm at the old watering hole letting my overworked mind wander, I hear a cell phone ring outside the door. Scully answers it.

"Dana Scully."

She's silent for just a split second.

"Yes, sir."

"Sir?" Christ! Is it Kersh? Can't he leave us the hell alone? We're going back to DC tomorrow, for God's sake. I hurry to finish my piss so I can get into the other room and bail Scully out if necessary. I shake off, rearrange, zip up and wash my hands in record time. Pulling the door open I'm greeted by Scully wearing one of my t-shirts and a pair of my boxers, the ones with Marvin the Martian on them. She's sitting on the bed, her cell phone in hand, and now she's smiling a little.

"Oh. I see. Sorry Walter. Yes...uh, he's right here," she proffers the cell phone towards me, the mute button depressed with her index finger.

"It's the other half. I thought he was at the office at first. But he's at home," she advises.

I arch an eyebrow. I wonder why the hell he's calling on Scully's number. I take the phone and depress the mute button.

"Walter?" I reply. I can't keep the longing out of my voice at all. Scully gets up off the bed, and ever the polite and respectful partner, takes this opportunity to use the bathroom.

"Fox," his deep voice comes across the miles, "how's it going?" 

"You don't want to know," I chuckle, "but suffice it to say I've seen enough cow shit to last me a lifetime."

"Yeah, I can imagine," he sighs.

"Say, why did you call on Scully's cell, big guy?"

"Precautions. I figured she'd be fast enough on her feet to act like I was in the office."

"Oh thanks for having such confidence in me," I answer sarcastically.

"I'm just kidding you moron. I called yours first."

"Oh yeah? Fuck. It must need recharging."

"Yeah, well consider this a reminder to plug it in, monster boy." 

"Oh, lover. Could I give you a retort for that one," I laugh.

I can hear Walter laughing on the other end of the phone. God I miss him. I miss feeling that rumbling laughter against my skin so much.

"I miss you," I whisper.

"Miss you too. I know this stinks, Fox. But look. When you get back I...I have some plans that may help."

"Yeah, what?"

"Well it doesn't have to do with the job but...you remember my offer to help Dennis and Phil re-roof their house?"

"Right."

"Well they've decided to wait until next year to do the roof." 

"So?" I prompt. God get to the point Walter I think. He's usually a lot more concise. But I sense teasing in his voice so I'm not going to get exasperated at him. He's got something going on here. I just have to be patient.

"They want to build a small deck off the back of the house instead. I think we've arranged to build it during a week or so over the Memorial Day holiday."

"And I'm helping?" I ask hopefully.

"You got it, babe. If you can arrange the vacation time, we'll head up to Crossroads, Norm, and play *This Old House*."

I crack up then. Oh yeah. I would have played Fox on a hot tin roof if it would get me a week with Walter in Crossroads again.

"Great Bob. Sounds like my kind of plan," I enthuse, excitement in my voice.

"There's a second part to the plan," he adds, boyish pleasure in his voice.

"Second part?" I ask raising an eyebrow.

"Yes. Scully is invited if you two can swing it."

"Oh shit, really?" I blurt out in spite of my attempt at maintaining my cool G-man demeanor.

Walter is laughing again on the other end of the line. He's inordinately happy with his surprise and not bothering to let his surly AD persona cover up his emotions either.

"Oh yeah. Dennis told me that if we didn't invite her along he and Phil would drum us out of the corps."

"Corps?"

"We'd be excommunicated from the church."

"Oh, booted out of The Queer Nation?"

"Exactly. They're dying to meet her."

"Well, I'll talk to her, by all means," I smile.

"Very good, agent."

"Yes, sir, this should be a first class operation."

"Yeah, it'll be a good time," Walter answers. I can hear the pleasure in every understated syllable of his reply.

He's quiet for a moment and then he clears his throat.

"So..." he begins.

"Yeah?" I ask raising an eyebrow at his hesitation.

"So, are you...are you staying with Scully this evening?" he asks quietly.

I shrug to myself, "Well actually she's in my room."

"Oh. Well...is that good news?" he asks with sympathetic hope. 

I sigh. We've talked about this a couple of times. Walter knows Scully and I still aren't making love. We had to talk about it. There have been a couple of times when, well let's say it's affected my performance with Walter a little. At any rate, Walter was extremely understanding about those incidents. Compassionate. But he knows I miss Scully and need her. He's concerned for us both really. I appreciate his kind understanding and support.

"Sort of. She's sleeping with me tonight. But...just sleeping. Uh, we're both kind of exhausted anyway for fun and games."

"Ah," he replies.

"Yeah, we couldn't even make it through *Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein* on AMC."

"Well, hell. You must be tired."

"Exactly."

"So, I'd better let you two get some sleep."

"I guess so. Night Walter. Thanks for calling, Main Man."

"You're welcome Fox. Say good night to Scully for me."

"Sure will."

"And Fox..."

"Yes, Walter?"

"She'll come round. Try to relax about it, ok?"

I sigh a little again and smile into the phone.

"Ok."

"All right then, babe."

"I love you, Walter."

"I love you too, Fox."

Click

I put the cell phone back down on the night stand next to my and Scully's Smith and Wesson's. Just as I'm shifting to sit up and remove my jeans, Scully comes out of the bathroom.

"Walter said to say good night," I grunt, pulling down my pants. 

"He sounded good, Mulder," she offers in way of conversation.

I wince a little with my rib and before I can tell her about Walter's little surprise, she's talking again.

"Listen, sit down. I really do want to take a look at that rib." 

"Ok, doc," I nod as I toss my jeans to the foot of the bed. I sit down obediently in my boxer briefs and t-shirt. She stands over me. 

"Lie down, Mulder," she gestures, all business. Ok, good. Dealing with *Doctor Dana* will be a hell of a lot more easy then dealing with Dana Scully. I lie down and shift over a little so she can sit next to me.

"The Tylenol's starting to help," I comment as she starts to expertly and gently press against the area of my injury. She raises a skeptical eyebrow.

"You just took it."

"Yeah, well, my side does feel a little better. Maybe it's just your touch," I smirk at her.

"Mulder, I'm a little worried about this rib. Seriously. When we get back to DC I think you should have your doctor X-ray it again as a precaution. There may be a hairline fracture."

"Oh. Sure. I can do that," I nod, "but it really is feeling better. Especially now that I'm lying flat.

"Good. You're not having any pain when you breath are you?"

"Nope. Feels fine."

"Cough," she orders, and I do.

"Does that hurt?"

"Nope."

"OK," she smiles a little and pats my stomach lightly.

"So, do I pass, doc?"

"For now. But I meant that about the X-ray."

"Yes, dear," I smirk again.

She rolls her eyes and gets up to walk around the bed.

"I think some sleep will help you more than anything else right now," she says as she reaches the other side of the mattress.

I get up carefully and help her to pull the covers back. She climbs into bed and I make the rounds of the room turning off the main light switch. I crack the bathroom door just enough to leave a small sliver of light shining into the room. Finally I walk back over and climb in beside Scully. We both pull the covers up to our chins. She isn't touching me, which is fine. At least she's here. I reach over and turn off the night stand light on my side. She does the same on hers. The room is fairly dark. The bathroom light really doesn't totally reach the bed.

"Night, Scully," I sigh and lie flat. It really does feel better to lie on my back.

"Mulder?"

"Yeah?"

"You really miss him don't you?"

"A lot."

"I'm sorry, Mulder."

"What have you got to be sorry about? You're not the one responsible for this situation."

I feel her lever up to lie on her side. I turn my head to look at her. She's propped up on the pillows. As my eyes adjust a little I can just make out her face.

"I know, but I'm still sorry you can't be with him."

I sigh, "Yeah, it hasn't been easy."

"For what it's worth...I miss having him as a boss. God, I never thought I'd say it - but I even miss his growling at us," she shakes her head, a rueful smile in her voice.

I chuckle a little.

"Walter does have a plan for us to get together though. For when we get back."

"Oh yeah?" she replies, brightening a little.

It's nice to see she's more understanding about Walter and my relationship. I think in her own way she's beginning to be less afraid of our former boss. Maybe because he is our *former* boss. Whatever. I just think Walter is growing on her. I know she went out of her way to have dinner with him a couple of times since the OPR hearing. Her mom invited Walter to her house and then Dana just happened to show up. Margaret made an exit with Byers, Frohike and Langly for the evening. Don't ask. Let's just say the last few issues of The Lone Gunman have been a lot better in the editing department. So, Walter and Scully had a nice quiet dinner and I think they ironed out a few issues.

It makes me very happy that they're getting along. I grin slightly back at her. I can hardly wait to tell her she's invited up to Maine with Walter and me.

"Yeah. If I can work it out we're going up to Crossroads to help Dennis and Phil build a deck on the house."

"That's marvelous, Fox," she says quietly, "Really, I mean it." 

"Well, when I said plan for us I meant, *us* Dana. You're invited too," I smile at her in the half-dark. She raises her eyebrows again with a quizzical look.

"*I'm* invited?"

"Dennis and Phil said if we didn't invite you they'd drum us out of the Queer Nation."

She laughs. "Well I guess I can't let you two become refugees..." she begins.

"Does that mean you'll come?"

"If we can convince Kersh we both need a vacation, yeah, I'd like to come. God knows I can use the time off after this stretch of utter shit. And you know, I'm not bad with a hammer," she smiles.

"Oh yeah, hammer down," I laugh, "and this will be over Memorial Day - a week or so in there. So, the vacation request should be a little more easy. I can handle it with Kersh, I think."

"I guess it's been lucky you've toed the line with our new boss," she smirks, sarcasm heavy in her tone. She looks down at the pillow. 

"Pull the other one, Agent Scully!" I mock growl at her.

She laughs, "You must be taking lessons, Mulder. That was a pretty passable Walter."

"Yeah, well from now on I guess I'd better watch it," I nod.

Hell. But for now I guess I'll have too mind my Ps and Qs if I want that week away, I think grimly. But it ain't gonna last. No way, no how. I can't take this scutt work much longer. I'm gonna blow a gasket. Scully has the patience of a saint. Me? Well you know how I am.

"Yup, that's me. Kersh's fair-haired boy," I reply with a cheesy grin, "so, Bobette Villa. You in the mood for some decking?"

"Only if I can deck Kersh," she giggles. I bark a quick laugh. 

"You'll have to take a number," I add.

"No kidding. But yeah. It's a decking date," she nods again.

I nod back. We stare at each other for a moment.

"Thanks, Dana," I finally whisper.

"You're welcome, Fox," she smiles gently. I lie down flat again and this time she shifts a little closer and lies on her side next to me. She rests her hand on my arm.

"Good night, red," I breath out easily. I'm really drowsy now. The day is definitely catching up with me. I'm glad because the fatigue is beating back any rampant lust brought on by Scully's warm hand touching my bicep.

"Mulder?" she asks in a sleepy voice.

"Hmmm?"

"Uh, not tonight but..."

"Yeah?"

"But after we get back I think...well I think I'm ready for us to be together again," she replies in a very quiet voice.

"as lovers?"

"Yeah. Providing you don't have a cracked rib," she giggles a little again. I chuckle in return. Profound relief courses through my entire body. A huge, sleepy, goofy grin plasters itself over my face. 

"I'll get that X-ray tomorrow," I reply with joy. I stretch out my arm and she lifts her head up slightly so I can hold her more close. 

"I've missed you," I say, kissing her hair.

She sighs.

"I know. I've...I've missed this."

"God, me too."

"Good night, G-man," she sighs. I can feel her breathing becoming more regular. She's falling asleep.

"Good night, G-Woman," I reply as I feel sleep claim me at last as well.

xXx

 

* * *

 

xXx

Friday, April 23, 1999. 7 PM. A warehouse somewhere in Washington DC.

"Well, I suppose this is better than Motel 6, " Walter sighs as I ring the buzzer next to the warehouse door.

I smile and wave up into the camera that's bolted above the entrance. Walter is not happy with the situation at all. He looks stiff and uncomfortable. Embarrassed as hell. He's trying to blend into the buildings brick wall. Oh hell. But what the fuck can we do? I just think it's lucky we're able to get together at all now. Yeah, so this isn't the ideal love nest. Ok. Shoot me. I ring the buzzer again. Damn it guys...

"Open the fuck up," Walter grouches under his breath.

"Hold your water, Mr. AD," a tinny voice from thin air complains. Langly. Oh wonderful. They're *all* still here?

"Ringo, show some class. Hang on a sec, Mulder," Frohike's electronically distorted voice interrupts. The door clicks once and I quickly reach forward to open it.

Langly and Frohike are standing there just inside the door. Byers comes forward. All of them have their coats on. Thank God. At least they're ready to leave.

Langly is grumbling about Frohike's remark. He's still distrustful of Walter. I suppose he has his reasons, but it's annoying. Walter is willing to look the other way over the almost perpetual cloud of pot smoke that surrounds the long-haired Lone Gunman. I don't see why Langly can't cut him *some* slack.

Frohike and Byers are fine with Walter. Frohike especially has taken a shine to my man Skinner. He was the one that came up with the idea to loan us the LGM headquarters for the night. So the place is a pit. It's at least electronically bug free and the fridge has beer. If all goes well, Walter and I probably aren't going to notice the decor anyway.

"So..." Byers begins.

"We're off..." Frohike finishes for him.

Langly in a rare moment of generosity adds, "You guys have dinner yet?"

"Yeah. We grabbed a bite on the way," I answer.

"Oh. Well if you get hungry later there's some leftover pizza in the fridge."

"Thank you," Walter nods. He moves back a bit so he's not looming over the three shorter men. He looks like he's trying to blend into the wood work now. Cripes. The LGM start to leave.

"Listen, guys. I...I really appreciate this," I hasten to tell them as Byers is checking to make sure he has his wallet.

"*We* appreciate it," Walter adds sincerely, clearing his throat. That's my main man.

"Hey, don't mention it. We're more than happy to promote good inter-departmental relations at the Bureau," Frohike grins and punches Walter on the bicep.

"Not to mention better morale," Byers grins a little.

The look on Walter's face is priceless. He looks like he's sucking a lemon. He does manage to speak and the growl in his voice is almost passable.

"Good night, gentleman. Enjoy the film festival."

"Thanks, I'm sure we'll *all* enjoy ourselves," Langly chimes in, laughing at Walter's pained expression over the double entendre.

Frohike opens the door and Byers and Langly proceed him out into the alley.

"Hey, before I forget. Uh...I'll call before we come home. It'll be pretty late though so...if you want to stay over....the extra bedroom is yours," Frohike offers quietly

"Great. Thanks again, Frohike," I give him a slap on the back and he grins wide. The guy really is a prince. A good friend.

"We'll replace the beer we drink," Walter adds with a quick business like nod.

"Sounds good. Ok. We're outta here," Frohike nods in return and then he exits, shutting the metal door behind him.

I can almost feel Walter's shoulders sag behind me.

"Christ on a crutch, Mulder. I'm never gonna live this down."

"Yeah, well you're not the one who's gonna have to repay them with an endless supply of movie tickets. I'm gonna have to ask Kersh for a raise to keep myself from starving to death."

"Ok. Ok. I guess I shouldn't be looking a gift horse in the mouth," he grumbles glancing around. He takes off his trench.

"I don't suppose there's a chance these guys use hangers much less have a coat closet?"

"Well they do have a coat tree - it's over there," I point off into a dark corner. Walter extends his hand and motions for me to remove my trench as well. I do and hand it too him. He turns and stalks off in the direction I indicated.

"You want a beer?" I call after him. A grunt answers me. I'm not sure if that's a yes or a no. I shrug and head for the fridge.

Contrary to popular belief - Frohike keeps a clean kitchen. The fridge is spotless inside and there are no dirty dishes in the sink. Unlike, Chez Mulder - he even has matching plates and utensils. Nothing fancy but they all look alike. I pull a couple of Miller Lites out of the fridge and head back out into the main room. Walter is standing there, still tense, looking around like a constipated Queen. I sigh and hand him the beer.

"Here you go. Bottoms up," I quip, eyebrow arching. I pull the tab on my can and take a hearty swig as I'm rewarded with his first small grin since we got here.

"So, you want to play some computer games? Read the latest issue of the Lone Gunman?" I ask, gesturing around the room.

"Please, spare me the rag sheet. But, if they have *Duke Nuke 'em* I'm your man," he replies seriously looking around again at the various PCs that are scattered all over the room.

I stare at him dumbfounded. What the hell? I mean I came here to make love not war. What the fuck does he want? I wasn't serious about playing some damn computer...Walter is laughing at me. Oh shit. You know, the guy should play poker more. He could use the damn AD face to bluff your pants off...come to think of it...

"You thought I was serious didn't you?" he guffaws, "Well, consider that payback for dragging me into this hell hole."

"Oh, you go to hell," I giggle, "You're so desperate to get off you would have let me do you in the car on the way if you could have driven with your legs over my shoulders."

"Oh yeah, bottoms up boy? Well how 'bout I show you just how good a driver I really am? Where's that extra bedroom the dwarf was talking about?"

Both of us leave the beers in the kitchen. We each make a detour to the bathroom before we hit the bedroom. The beers notwithstanding - it wasn't a short drive over here and both of us have been living on coffee lately.

Even with the small night stand lamp on, the bedroom isn't too bad, thank God. Frohike has matching sheets at least. Ok, the comforter has a Star Trek motif. You can't have everything. The bed isn't a King either, but it'll do. Walter and I help each other to undress. There's only one chair in the room so we fold our clothes and pile them up on the chair seat. Our guns and most of our other accessories go on top of the clothing. Our shoes go under the chair. I chuckle. Walter's ways are rubbing off on me I guess. Astroglide goes on the night stand, Walter's glasses go next to the lube. Reluctantly we put our cell phones next to Walter's glasses.

Both of us stand and gaze at each other for a couple of minutes. Walter advances and takes me gently into his arms. I shiver a little, but not from the cold. His warm touch is electric heat on my naked skin. I settle against him and nuzzle his neck.

"How's the rib?" he asks, caressing my side with tenderness.

"Still bruised a little. But the X-rays didn't show any crack. It'll heal."

"You sure it doesn't bother you?"

"Nope. It feels better every day. It feels fine right now." I pull back and grin at him.

He ruffles my hair and grins wolfishly, "Good," He rumbles and I kiss him briefly on the mouth.

Finally we lie down together under the covers, on our backs. Both of us are staring at the ceiling. The absurdity of the location and situation suddenly hits us. I start to chuckle and then laugh out loud. So does Walter. Soon, we're laughing helplessly together. We roll to face each other and I bury my face in his arm pit, giggling like hell.

"This is too much," he groans.

"Shit, I know. It's like high school. You know...when you and your girlfriend are trying to find a make-out spot?"

"Uh, I wouldn't know about that experience," he rumbles his laughter.

"Didn't you have a girlfriend in high school?"

"Nope. I was a big, shy, dumb jock in high school. Not to mention queer. No girlfriend. I didn't even have a boyfriend. I was really backward."

I pull away from him and look into his crinkled eyes.

"Really?"

"Yeah, really," he laughs, "it's ok. It was a long time ago. I give a shit."

He pulls me close and kisses me with gusto. Oh God, can he kiss. When he pulls away I'm smiling very wide.

"Well, you've got a boyfriend now, big man."

"Yeah," he sighs and just stares at me for a long moment. Then he looks down slightly and runs his hand over my chest, toying with my chest hair.

"What is it," I ask, trying to look up into his eyes.

"Nothing really. Forget it."

"Walter?"

"I...I just miss this, that's all," he replies quietly.

I lift his chin.

"I miss it too. You...you wanna talk about it?"

"No, it's all right. I'm managing to cope. How are you doing by the way? With Scully I mean?" he asks, his eyes soft with concern. 

"We're lovers again," I reply simply, running my hand along the side of his face.

"Thank God," he breathes out, the last vestiges of tension leaving his face.

"Were you that worried?" I ask, somewhat amazed. God, I knew he cared but this...this is so touching.

"Well sure I was worried. I was worried for you both. You were half crazy without her and she's been..."

"A bitch on two wheels?"

"Hey, Mulder..." he begins, affronted for Scully.

"Ok. I'm just kidding. But I know what you mean. She hasn't been herself either. Walter...I think we just need each other in so many ways. We need you too big guy. This forced separation it's...well it isn't doing any of us a favor."

"I can't argue there."

"So, it was pretty bad while we were in Wisconsin?"

"If you can call having to deal with Spender's ladder climbing and that bullshit out in Colorado - yeah - it's been a bastard few weeks. I solved two birds with one stone though. I sent Spender to Colorado," he finishes with a bitter chuckle.

"A kidnapping wasn't it?"

"Yeah, some corporate big wig."

"But with X-File implications?"

"The guy's wife claims he was abducted by aliens. I think he ran off with his size 40 D cup blonde accountant. But, Spender'll find out I'm sure. The guy isn't a total incompetent after all. I think he can handle run of the mill domestic chicanery like this case."

I sigh.

"Mulder, it isn't an X-File. Take my word for it, ok? There are no more X-Files."

"For now..."

"Whatever. Look I know it stinks. The whole morass is like a fan. It blows and it sucks. Let's drop the discussion for now, all right. It...it's pointless."

I nod in agreement. I can't help but agree. There's nothing he can do about the situation. He can only try to do his best from behind the scenes. Getting Spender out of the picture for a while is a big help to my sanity that's for sure. The rest of the battle will come in due time. I know he's going to be there one way or another. I smile at him again and kiss him on the forehead.

"Ok. Let's stop talking shop. I just...I wanted to make sure you were ok at the office that's all. I..."

His face tightens slightly again.

"Mulder, I'm gonna have to do ok at the office. It's not like I'm not used to the bureaucratic bull shit and intrigue, anyway. It's not easy, but I'll get along. As for the rest...we just have to wait and see how the situation plays out."

I nod again.

"Good. Well...the vacation in Maine is really going to help."

"Oh yeah, no question. And Fox..."

"Yeah, Walter."

"I know you care. So do I. I appreciate it more than I can even tell you. This situation is beyond our control. We're going to have to make due with what we can get. We knew this kind of thing could have been a possibility anyway, you know. I don't think we should blame ourselves or...or let circumstances intrude on the few moments we do have together. I'm sorry, I don't mean to cut you off here. I'm not avoiding the issue. I just want to be with you tonight. That's just the way I feel about it."

I look into his face, at his distressed eyes and tight jaw. He's right. We don't need the forces that swirl around us here tonight in this bed. It's not fair to have them ruin even this, our devotion for each other. It's not fair to have the dark encroach on us even as we make love.

"Hold me," I whisper into Walter's deep brown eyes. The distress leaves them immediately and he pulls me close and hugs me hard. He murmurs silly little words of endearment. Things he says in bed, and nowhere else, because as he says - if I told you that now I'd have to kill you. Then we're kissing again. He tastes like sweet wine even though I know he was only drinking beer.

 

He's holding me so close I can feel the medallion I gave him pressing hard into my chest. It's a wonderful pressure. I reach down and start to stroke his cock. He moans against my mouth. Somehow we kick the covers off as we start to heat up. Now we can hear skin against skin, and skin against slick cotton sheets. Walter drapes one muscular leg over my thigh and runs it up and down seductively.

I pull back from the kiss and Walter's mouth latches onto my neck immediately. As it travels down to my collar bone and he begins to suck on my skin, I whisper in his ear.

"Let me get you hard, lover. I want you in me so bad," I mumble against him.

He stops sucking my flesh just long enough to speak.

"I wanna fuck you bad too."

"Oh God, yeah," I nuzzle his face and keep up my steady stroke on his cock. His leg's still over mine as he concentrates on what my hand is doing to his dick. I bring my hand down to the end and work my thumb and index finger around the glans, flicking and teasing the crown just the way he likes it.

I can feel the suction on my collar area increase. I know he's going to leave a mark. I don't care. I bring my free hand up and cup the back of his head, urging him forward, holding him against me firmly. I want him to mark me. It's a sign of our passion. It's a sign I belong to him.

"Ohhhhh," I moan. I'm distracted and my hand stills over his growing erection.

He stops for a second and replies, breathless, "You taste so good."

"I wanna taste you too," I groan, pumping his cock again.

"Oh yeah? Suck it then," he growls. Oh yes sir. I'm more than happy to oblige.

I shift up and he lets go of my neck, rolling over onto his back. He spreads his legs for me and without a moments hesitation I go down on him. His hips arch off the bed and he cries out.

"Fox!"

I work over his cock until he's writhing under me. He goes completely caveman on me at last. He begins to groan nonsense sounds with utter abandon. His eyes are shut and one fist clenches and unclenches on the bed. His other hand is tangled in my hair. Finally his monosyllabic grunts are punctuated with intelligent speech.

"Stop!" he shouts.

I knew he was close but I was so caught up in the moment I missed just how close I guess. As I start to shift up again it's obvious he's really struggling for control. He's breathing terribly hard. 

"Fffox..." he stutters. Oh hell, maybe he was a little too close. I grab him quickly behind the glans and squeeze hard for a few seconds. After several short breathes, he relaxes.

"S'ok. I'm ok," he grins weakly at me. Walter's erection is at half mast now. We'll have to wait a while for further fun. But what the hell. I can get into some more body work, no problem. He looks down with a little frown though.

"Hey, it's all right. I can wait. Come here. Keep me warm," I say in my best husky voice. He chuckles and we move close and cuddle. Soon we're kissing again, and oh man is that ever bliss.

He laps where he left his mark before.

"Sorry about this babe," he whispers into my neck.

"I'm not. You've seen Scully's marks before. You know I don't mind."

"True. Still...this is kinda high up. Scully has better aim."

We both laugh at the allusion. The first time Walter found one of Scully's hickeys it was on the inside of my thigh.

He runs his hands down my chest and then down my stomach. I shift over onto my back as his mouth begins to follow his hands. He laves my nipples until I'm berserk with desire. I'm moaning and gasping. He reaches my cock and starts to lap and suck at it in turn. I hold onto his head as he takes me completely in. God I can't even begin to tell you how good this guy has gotten at giving head. He's almost as good as Scully, and she's a champ.

While Walter's lying between my thighs he's humping his own cock on the bed, getting himself up again. I close my eyes at the feeling of him doing himself and the vibrations it's causing to run through him and into me. It's an incredible feeling. The harsh breath blowing out of his nose wafts across my pubic hair. He releases my erection and moves up to lie over me, taking his weight on his elbows and forearms.

"Fuck me," I moan pulling my knees up so his hips can drop between my legs. He starts to rub his cock over mine. Man. I love this dance. I can feel my pre-cum now. I'm slick with it, and our sweat. My nuts are so cum heavy they feel like shot put balls.

Walter isn't dripping at all yet. He's not up completely. Close. Just a little more humping. God damn it feels so good. Before I realize what's happening, the wonderful pressure and slick heat take me higher and...oh Christ. I explode. I shoot my wad, screaming out in ecstasy. Streams of cum shoot up all over Walter's stomach.

"Ffffuck!" I cry out as Walter holds me in his arms.

"It's ok. Good. It's great baby," he croons. I'm thinking distantly that I didn't want to come yet. But it's too late, and Jesus it's beyond marvelous. I'm rigid against him and then twitching spastically as I ride it out. When I come back to my senses Walter's still holding me and stroking my hair.

"You looked beautiful," he says, kissing me gently on the cheek. 

"I feel like a fucking 16 year old."

"Hey..." he ruffles my hair, "you know I like to see you come. That was hot."

"Well, I just wanted...I thought you'd enjoy it more if you were in me."

"Fox, I enjoy it when you get off no matter when it is, ok? Really. It's a huge turn on for me. I love you. I want to give you that pleasure."

I smile into his eyes. I can't imagine what he sees in me. I know Walter still thinks that about himself sometimes. How I can love him so much. But God, do you wonder why now? And he still thinks he's not worthy? Well, he doesn't have a thing to worry about. Ever.

"It is a pleasure, Walter. It was the best. Thank you," I smile and reaching up, pull his face to mine for another kiss. He starts to undulate against me again. I nuzzle into his neck.

"You still want me, baby?" he purrs into my ear.

"God yes. I want you to fuck me hard."

Finally I can feel his huge, heavy erect length and his balls tightening slightly. He's ready all right.

"Slick me up," I grate out. He stretches over and grabs the lube. Three fingers are in and out, over and over and I'm in heaven. I pull my legs back tight against my stomach and fuck his hand. God, I want him deep. He slicks up his cock and helps me to lift my legs up over his shoulders.

"I love you," I whisper as he pushes into me.

"Oh babe..." he moans, shutting his eyes. He looks so regal, powerful as he works his cock up my ass. He's always slow at first, careful not to hurt me because I'm still tight. His thick flesh filling me is a wonderful feeling though. Sure, it's a little painful at first, but the quick, searing pleasure more than chases away the hurt.

"You feel so good. Uhhhh, Walter," I groan as he pushes home up to his balls. He's breathing hard as he opens his eyes.

"I'm close. Jus' a sec...Christ. I feel like the fuckin' kid now," Walter barks out a quick laugh as he tries to hold still. I laugh as well and we bounce together for a second. Then we get very quiet because I can tell from the strain on his face, he's deadly serious. If he moves now he'll be gone.

The poor guy. Both of us are so starved for each other we can barely keep it up. Well in my case I couldn't at all. God. I needed this so much. I run my hands up and down his arms very lightly and murmur my love for him as he holds himself in check. I can feel him untense slightly and I know he's got enough control back to last long enough.

"You ok?" I ask quietly. He strokes my hand and smiles into my eyes.

"Yeah. You?"

"Fine," I sigh and close my eyes. He shifts slightly and holding onto my legs, pulls back and then thrusts into me.

"Better than fffine," I stutter and then he starts to move slowly and erotically against me. Oh God, he's gonna stretch it out as long as he can. I've died and gone to heaven. He angles each long, sure thrust up to hit my prostate and I'm getting hard again as he does it.

"Thats it baby. Get it up for me," he grunts.

Both of us are beyond words then. I'm arching my hips up to meet Walter's driving cock now. I want to take him in as deep as he can go. He's speeding up, his balls slapping up hard against my ass. Sweat springs out all over us again. When he reaches forward to crank me I take his hand and guide him in. Two swift, rough strokes of his large hand and I come again - howling like a wolf. Somewhere in the exquisite white-out in back of my eyes I can hear Walter's gasp as he comes after me. I feel him rocking against me, pumping hard to wring out every last bit of his orgasm. When I see his face at last, his head is thrown back and his mouth open in a silent scream. Finally he falls forward against me and the air reenters his lungs in an incoherent exclamation of exultation. He's trembling, flushed, and wet and it's a joyous sight to behold. I reach up and touch his hands where they hold my legs. He falls sideways, almost in slow motion. We lie there breathing hard, smiling and silent for several moments. He pulls out and helps us both to untangle. He checks me over for damage. When he sees there is none, Walter draws me close and kisses my hair.

"Lover, that was beyond the best," he says, nuzzling against me. 

"Way beyond," I add, almost sobbing.

We shift, pulling the covers back up around us. Walter lies back. I put my head on his chest and he wraps one strong arm around my shoulder. We snuggle up close and Walter yawns a little.

"You wanna sleep big guy?" I ask into his chest hair.

"Yeah, but I should clean us up."

"Oh. Hey. Let me," I volunteer crawling out of the bed.

I make a hasty trip to the bathroom and dampen up a washcloth with warm water. I snag a towel as well. I come back in and Walter and I do the wipe and dry off bit standing at the side of the bed. I drape the towel and wash cloth over the chair back. We look at the sheets for a moment. They don't look too bad really.

"You want to change..." I begin.

"No. I guess it can wait." Walter shrugs

We climb back under the covers and lie face to face once more. 

"So, you wanna snooze?" I ask Walter again.

"Yeah. I'd like to sleep for a little while."

"Ok. Me too. When Frohike calls I'll wake you up."

"Shit, the phone will wake me up anyway," he replies with a gruff chuckle, "you wanna spend the night here then?" he adds hopefully. 

"Sure, I guess I'd better. I'm beat anyway. And hey, maybe we can go again later..."

"Fat chance after the three stooges reappear," he growls.

"Get real. The brick walls in this place make the rooms practically sound proof. Besides it's not like they don't bring women here once in while."

"Somehow I think that would qualify as an X-File," he laughs, shaking my head where it lies on his chest.

"No, really..."

"Ok, I believe you. Spare me the gory details. I gotta crash anyway. Sure, when Frohike calls if I can get it up, we can go again," he chuckles, kissing my hair again warmly. I laugh as well and turn over so we can spoon together. We snuggle close and Walter puts an arm protectively around me.

"Night, Walter."

"Sweet dreams, Fox," Walter mumbles as he reaches to turn off the light.

xXx

Friday, May 21, 1999. 9 AM. The J. Edgar Hoover Building

AD Kersh's secretary stares at me. I stare at her. Gee, blondes sure have more fun. Piss on it. I've been cooling my heels here for 20 minutes waiting for *Special K* to get done with whoever the hell is in his office so I can find out what the hell he could possibly want with yours truly. I can't imagine what he wants with me. Scully wasn't called in here. I wrack my brain. Our last case report was letter perfect. Christ, even the expenses were in order. Since Kersh ok'd Scully and my vacation requests we've been treading on eggs to please the bastard. We didn't want anything to screw up our chances to escape the grind for awhile. Yes, we've been good little agents, Scully and I. Ken and Barbie for the F Bean Counting I.

Well I suppose if Kersh found out Scully and I were balling like bunnies he might have something to frown about. We've been extra cautious however. Langly and Frohike sweep Scully and my apartments for bugs on a regular rotation now. They've been sweeping Walter's place as well but Walter still thinks it's too much of risk to meet me there. I guess I can't blame him. We have less reason to get together not being partners on the job, and even less since he's been officially ordered to stay away from me. Walter and I haven't been able to get together much at all as a result. Our rendezvous at the LGM headquarters was one of the few occasions we've been able to spend time together. Being away from his embrace still makes me feel partially empty.

But Scully and I are lovers again, thank God. Two days before Walter and I had our assignation in the LGM's extra bedroom, Scully invited me over for dinner. We had Chicken Marsala with a Caesar salad and a nice wine for the main meal. We had each other for dessert. Oh, those calories we didn't put on. It was glorious losing myself in her arms. Watching her eyes dance. Feeling her flesh. Being in her again, having her over me, under me, all round me. And oh how fantastic it was to hold her after the loving. Cuddling, talking quietly with her about little things again. She told me her mother is seriously involved with Byers. I can hardly believe it, but it's true. No hanky-panky, but Margaret has developed a deep fondness for the bearded computer geek. It's kind of sweet. I'll watch where that goes with interest. It's just great being back with Scully. I feel almost whole again. Now, I'm so looking forward to feeling complete with Walter and Scully at my side. Even if it's only for a little over a week it's going to be beautiful. It's going to be fantastic and it's going to have to last me for a while. Maybe a very long while.

So, today's the big day. We're leaving early to drive up to Crossroads, Maine. Walter took today off and he's up there all ready. I'm driving up at noon. Scully's stopping at her mother's house later, and then she's blowing this Popsicle stand for Maine too. As I'm contemplating the glorious week ahead, the phone on Kersh's guard dog's desk rings. She picks up the receiver and speaks into it.

"Yes sir. Right away."

The blonde hangs up and her beady little eyes zero in on me.

"He'll see you now, Agent Mulder," she barks. Bow wow, you efficient bitch. I don't know what it is about that woman. I just don't like her. And who the hell was in Kersh's office I wonder. They didn't come out through the front door. Hmmm. I smile, knowing it doesn't reach my eyes, get up and go in to confront the new boss. 

As soon as I enter the inner sanctum I smell the fucking Morley smoke. Shit! I knew it! Well, I've suspected on a gut level but fuck it anyway. Oh yeah, all bets are off now you dickwad traitor. I nod my head and clear my throat. Kersh closes a file on his desk and looks at me for the first time.

"Sit down, Agent Mulder."

I take a seat in the chair in front of his desk. When I do so, I see the cigarette butts and ashes in the ash tray on Kersh's desk. Brazen bastard. But then again maybe Kersh smokes too. Oh yeah, sure. Asshole. Whatever. I think I'd better listen up. I have a sinking feeling something unpleasant is about to happen. I need my brain firing on all cylinders here.

"I have some bad news, Agent Mulder."

I bet creepazoid. Ok. I knew it. Here it comes.

"I'm going to have to ask you to put off your vacation for a few days."

I'm seeing red. I can't even see Kersh's face right now. I feel the blood pressure soar right up my neck and flush my entire face. Damn him to hell. Kersh notices my discomfort. How could he miss it? I must look like a tomato. But, of course he could care less. He continues on and I can't help but think that he's roaring with laughter inside.

"VCS has an emergency, Mulder. It looks like Holyoke, Massachusetts has an escalating serial rapist on it's hands. He's doing college women and the last one was cut up as well as raped. At any rate, Burton needs help with the profile. Gallago is working another case down in Clearwater, Florida. You'll need to report to Burton by 11 AM today. That should give you a chance to inform agent Scully and clear up any loose ends. I assume you don't have many loose ends anyway in view of your vacation request."

I'm nodding my head like an imbecile and trying to rein in my raging anger. Fine, maybe this is legitimate. Just bad timing. College women being raped and very probably murdered in the near future isn't something I'm going to overlook for God's sake . If Gallago is unavailable then yeah, I'm the best man for the business. Still why now? I scream inwardly. Why me?

"Agent Mulder?"

"Yes, sir. I'll postpone my vacation, no question. The situation in Holyoke sounds serious."

"It is serious, Mulder. Burton..."

He hesitates just a moment as if he's going to choke on his next words.

"and I both want to thank your for lending a hand."

"No problem, sir."

"You will of course, need to go to Holyoke. Burton will be assigning another agent to accompany you."

"All right, sir. Thank you for having the confidence to assign me," I cringe inwardly as I give him a cheesy half smile. Oh God, I can't believe I'm sucking up to him. I feel like I'm licking his boots. Piss up a rope.

"Confidence has nothing to do with it, Mulder. I know your success rate as a profiler. It's common, if not statistical knowledge. I'm allocating the best resource I have to this case. I know you'll get your man. As soon as you do, you're on vacation at my authorization. Dismissed."

Bite me, buster. Just wait. This is war now. In more ways than one.

xXx

"Oh Mulder..." Scully begins to commiserate when I get back to the bull pen. I rushed through the results of my meeting with Kersh. As I told her I began to struggle with the depression that's settling on my shoulders. I have to shake that off right away. The college women in Holyoke don't need an agent with a personal agenda.

"Look, let's not talk about it, ok? I...I just can't right now. I have to get my shit together and report to Burton."

Lucky I had my bags in the car all ready. I'm ready for the road trip without having to go home to pack. Scully nods in understanding. I smile a little at her to soften my words.

"Well, everything here is tied up. I...do you want me to call and cancel your uh, hotel reservations?" she lifts an eyebrow.

Oh shit yeah. What in the hell am I going to tell Walter?

I sit down for a second and open a file to cover what I'm going to say. She moves close and we pretend to go over the paper in front of us.

"I don't think you should stay here. Drive up to Maine and have a good time."

She creases her forehead.

"I don't..." she starts to object.

"Scully, one of us should have some fun. You need the vacation. I'll feel better with this situation if I know you're enjoying yourself a little."

She sighs and nods.

"Yeah. I have to admit, I've really been looking forward to the time off. Ok. I'll leave early as planned and head up to Crossroads." 

"All right, that's my..."

"If you say girl, I'll clock you," she hisses with a quick grin. I smirk. Works to cheer her up every time.

"Should I call uh, your hosts. Or do you want to do it?"

I debate a moment as she stares at me. I hate to ask her to tell him. But, I know Burton will have me up in Holyoke fast. There won't be time to call Walter and have any sort of coherent conversation. Scully would be the logical choice to give my man the bad news when she gets up there. Crap. This stinks all the way around.

"If you wouldn't mind informing them, later, I'd appreciate it. I'd do it but I don't think there's time right now. Tell them I'll call and reconfirm my reservations at a future time," I wince as I ask it. It's a lot to ask. Being the bearer of bad tidings - especially bad tidings to Walter Skinner is no small task to endure. 

"I think I can manage that," she agrees touching my knee under the desk. Bless her heart. God, she's an angel.

"Thanks, Agent Scully," I reply more loudly, "I think we're all set here."

"I'd say so Agent Mulder. Good luck in Massachusetts," she shakes my hand in a business like manner. I almost laugh with the formality of it. It's part of the Barbie and Ken Goody-two shoes agent act of course. We're getting rather good at it. She whispers one last thing just before I release her hand and her parting remark does bring a grim smile to my lips.

"Go get 'em, Boy Wonder. I know you'll catch the bastard. We'll see you in Maine soon."

"Count on it," I reply with a nod. I collect my briefcase, turn and head out to meet with Burton.

CONTINUED IN PART II...

 

* * *

 

TITLE:  The Threefold Charm - Part II  
NAME: frogdoggie  
E-MAIL:   
CATEGORY: SRA

RATING: NC-17. M/SK. M/SK/SC eventually. This story contains SLASH. VERY GRAPHIC CONSENSUAL SEX BETWEEN MEN. SOME M/F SEX TOO. So, if you don't like that type of thing - STOP NOW! Forewarned is forearmed. Proceed with caution.

SUMMARY: Mulder, Skinner and Scully's relationship deepens and takes a new turn - with complications . The action in "The Threefold Charm" takes place in April and May of 1999 -several months after "Tripartite" This story is the fifth installment in a series. Obviously you may want to read my previous stories, "Baton Rouge" (winner of the 1998 Spooky Award for Outstanding SK/M Romance), "Discordia Concors", "Embarrass du Choix" and "Tripartite" to understand this narrative. Those stories can be found on my web site at:

http://www.squidge.org/3wstop

or my mirror site at: http://tv.acmecity.com/scary/50

FEEDBACK - YES PLEASE, AND THANK YOU SIR, CAN I HAVE ANOTHER? Comments, suggestions and healthy debate are always welcome. Flames? I use them to roast weenies, hamburgers and Italian sausages on the grill.

TIMESPAN/SPOILER WARNING.: This takes place well into the new season but we have now departed from the events that are occurring in it quite a bit. Mulder and Scully still have the X-Files and Skinner is still their boss at the moment. I mention "Triangle" because that would fit in nicely with the M/SK/SC scenario of this story. So, I've kind of reinvented the mytharc for my slash AU. Sorry if that bothers you - feel free to go elsewhere if it does. I won't mind.

KEYWORDS: story angst slash Skinner Mulder Scully NC-17

DISCLAIMER: Fox Mulder, Walter Skinner, Dana Scully, Margaret Scully, Jeffrey Spender, the LGM and all other X-Files characters belong to Chris Carter, Ten-Thirteen Productions and 20th Century FOX Broadcasting. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from their use. Dennis Carr and Phil Meyers are mine. If you want to use them fine, but please ask first.

***Author's notes: I've attempted to bring in some of the mytharc elements from Season 6 at this juncture. So, Mulder and Scully are now without the X-Files and Walter Skinner is no longer their boss. But the scenario for why this happened is a bit different. You might say it has a frogdoggie twist. This is before S.R. 819 - which if I had anything to say about it never happened anyway (or had a much different ending!)

The story grew and grew like Topsy. As a result "Charm" is divided it into three sections so it will be more easy to post and put on my web sites. So the entire story consists of Part I, Part II and Part III.

BTW: Author's epilogue at the end. 

One last note: This is dedicated to "The Chatterers". You know who you are. You know what you do. Voodoo. The Hoodoo that most people don't dare do. You have my deepest thanks.

* * *

The Threefold Charm - Part II by frogdoggie

Come, sit thee down upon this flowery bed,  
While I thy amiable cheeks do coy,  
And stick musk-roses in they sleek smooth head,  
And kiss thy fair large ears, my gentle joy.

  * Titania to Bottom: Shakespeare, "A Midsummer Night's Dream" 



 

Friday, May 21, 1999 Noon. Crossroads, Maine

When Sharon and I were newlyweds we used to come up to Crossroads quite often during the summer. Those were halcyon days. Sharon and I were good friends. I told myself I was in love with her. I know she was in love with me. We rented a little cottage on land's end not far from this house, Dennis and Phil's house, although they didn't own it then.

The cottage was little more than a bungalow, but it sat practically on the beach. Sharon and I took endless walks on the sand. We would collect particularly beautiful shells or colorful water smoothed rocks to take back to our apartment in DC. We'd fish right off the beach and build a bonfire down there at dinner time to cook our catch over. We drank beer and lay on a blanket staring up at the night sky afterwards. The stars were so bright at lands end. Stars are always bright away from city lights. We could feel the sea breeze and it blew through Sharon's long brown hair.

Our bedroom window faced the ocean. The first time we came up to the cottage I remember making love to Sharon while the ocean waves crashed into the beach below. There had been a storm coming in from the sea. Maybe that long ago storm had been a harbinger of things to come for Sharon and me.

But there was something magical about Crossroads. Something that made me believe...well in those early days of our marriage I still believed I could play it straight. I thought I could continue to be a good husband and lover to Sharon. I failed in both departments eventually. But in those first days, visiting Crossroads, I was convinced I'd found nirvana with the love of a good woman. My previous attraction to men was a phase that was long past, I thought. I was wrong, and our marriage failed because of my delusional thinking. I regret that to this day. Because as I said - Sharon was a good woman, and a good friend. Do you know how good? She's still a friend and she's never mentioned my preferences to anyone, ever.

Later I thought the magic of Crossroads was a fraud or if it had been there at all it was long dead. It died the last time Sharon and I came to Crossroads. We drove up on our wedding anniversary - the anniversary before our separation. By this time we were mostly roommates. We tended to go our own ways, with our own friends and interests. I was deep into my work at the bureau. Sharon had her own career and her arts groups. Our lovemaking was sporadic and unsatisfying for us both. We knew something was wrong but didn't want or know how to discuss it. Ok, not we - *I* didn't want to discuss it. But, we thought the tranquillity of Crossroads might help us to rekindle our marriage or at least get us talking meaningfully to each other. Well we were half right.

We talked at last...and the magic died. It was during this final visit that I told Sharon I was gay. She cried when I explained I couldn't, in good conscious, expect her to remain my wife. She agreed and filed for divorce soon afterwards. Irreconcilable differences. Yeah, you could say I was irreconcilably different. I prefer fucking men. It's a big difference all right...to your wife. But it was my choice, my life and I couldn't lie to Sharon any longer.

Of course I still lied to everyone else including whether I wanted to admit it or not, myself. I kept lying for years. I lied that finding a good man was necessary for me. Sure I'd admitted I liked loving men. But Fucking A! I was damned if I was going to let myself act on it. It was way to risky. It might make me content, fulfilled. Couldn't have that, Walter. I didn't believe, deep down, that any kind of happiness was necessary, or that I was deserving of happiness. So, I hid my preferences from others. Stayed in the closet. Denied myself love or even feelings of desire. I'm good at denial...at hiding my feelings. At covert activities. Was good at those things. Until Baton Rouge. Until Fox Mulder finally got me to admit what I'd been hiding from for all these years.

Now I know that Crossroads is truly magical, even in winter. The last time I came to Crossroads I came here with Fox Mulder, my lover. We were joined by Dana Scully, his lover. A good man, a good woman...and my friends. I thank God every day for making Mulder a brash son of a bitch too. Oh yeah, his brashness ties my guts in knots on the job a lot of the time. But I wouldn't have him any other way. Because if he hadn't been a cocky bastard, hadn't taken the initiative down in Louisiana, I would probably still be alone. I'd still be in the closet. I'd still be the tight-assed bureau bastard. Ok. I'm still a tight-assed bureau bastard. But at least I'm a happy, tight-assed bureau bastard. And Fox likes that nice tight ass. So I was able to admit, to no longer deny my desires, to act on my attraction to other men, and this man in particular. I could admit I was in love, that I deserved some modicum of joy. I realized that a good man in my life was what I had really wanted for years.

And Scully! I'm still relieved that she's back with Fox. I'm also relieved and amazed and yeah, slightly flattered that she's treating me like something approaching a friend now too. We've gotten together a few times - without Mulder. You know, to shoot the shit. Swap Mulder stories. Discuss lover's strategy. It was rather strange at first. Hell, that's a friggin' understatement. Talk about extreme possibilities. If you'd told me that Dana Scully and I would be sitting down over coffee talking like two old friends instead of glowering boss and nervous, verging on quaking subordinate I would have told you to pull the other one. But it's true and it's...well I like it. It's fine by me.

But it wasn't easy getting to that point. There were issues. I had a couple of big ones.

First, I hardly understood how Mulder could keep the relationships separate. But Fox Mulder doesn't do anything in a typically textbook or run of the mill manner. To say he marches to a different drummer isn't even close to the mark. This ability to focus on one or the other of us was no exception. Still - how he was able to give us his undivided energy and attention when he was with one of us floored me. Even when he was half crazy with thinking he was going to lose Scully over that business in the hotel room - make no mistake. When he was with me the world revolved around me. Well maybe a couple of times his mind was preoccupied with Scully...and he wasn't able to...well I won't go into it. Those couple of times involve private matters between us. I respect Fox's privacy. I know he was hurting however. But despite all that I didn't feel like he regretted he was with me and wanted to be off trying to reconcile with Scully. Never.

But Jesus. It's a stretch to understand and accept a polyamory situation. I mean I didn't wake up one morning and say *Gee Walter - why don't you become enamored of someone involved in the practice of carrying on simultaneous relationships with more than one partner?* I'm queer but queers can be conservatives too you know. This would have been the last kind of situation I'd expect to find myself in. Hell - I was a closeted queer for how many years? Conservative doesn't even touch the surface of how uptight I was and - ok still am, in a lot of ways. So, this tripartite treaty idea was not an easy arrangement by any means. But I'm very good at...special arrangements. So, I'm starting to get with the game plan here.

Second? Ok. I didn't want to share my lover with someone else either. I'm as capable of jealousy as the next person after all. But, I don't like to admit to jealousy in this situation. Jealousy is such a...such an unproductive, energy wasting and ultimately dangerous emotion. Giving in to the green eyed monster only let's it jump up later and bite you in the ass. Even though the situation is hard to understand, I'm trying be fair here. Gain balance. Trying to approach tolerance and take into account everyone's feelings here. God, I know that sounds like AD speak. Maybe it is force of job habit talking. But I love Fox. I know he loves me. He's given me so much. And like I said - when I'm with him I'm obviously the center of his world. I want...I want to return some of the joy he's given me. I want to be a good partner for him. And a good partner accommodates his lover's wants and needs too. And Mulder needs Dana Scully as much as he needs oxygen to breath. So, I'm squashing the jealousy as best I can. Keeping the green eyed monster in chains. I'm trying to make share and share alike my motto. It's a challenge. But I'm very good at challenges too.

Scully's views on both these matters were pretty much the same, to be fair. She told me as much during a conversation we had right here in the kitchen of this house. She hasn't been overly hesitant to express her viewpoint since that Christmas night. It has been a help. But still, talking with her about our feelings, about Mulder about...the sharing.

I mean what do you say to the woman who's balling your man? Shit - that sounds like the opening lyrics to a bad Country and Western song. But can you just imagine how difficult conversation was between me and Scully at first? Damn! There we were trying to keep it serious - adult - business-like, while we're exchanging opinions and information on a three way relationship. Sexuality issues. Likes and dislikes. Oh shit - I don't mean we were discussing what Mulder likes in bed, or what I like, or she likes in the sack either. Christ on a crutch. No way. But we were talking about the issues. And we were definitely discussing the object of our mutual affection.

I'll tell you the honest truth here too. We had a bit of amusement at Mulder's expense. A little behind the back Mulder bashing. Scully and I started on the road to familiarity by raking Mulder over the coals a trifle. Hey, he had it coming. He was being a bastard. You know how he can be on occasion? Brat boy personified? Obsessive? Compulsive? You know the drill. So can you blame us? Sounds bitchy you say? I wouldn't go there. Scully wouldn't like it. And you can imagine what I'd say if you called me a bitch? Yeah, smart move. But what the hell. If complaining about Mulder's *idiotsyncrocies* gave Scully and I a common touchpoint, I was willing to swerve a little into *girlfriend mode*. Yeah, but not fucking Nelly. And if you tell anyone I said that I'll have to kill you? Do I make myself clear? Good.

So, Scully and I have been getting to know each other. We're becoming comfortable with each other at last it seems. I don't think she sees me as the surly, aloof boss so much any longer. Oh in the office she respects me as her supervisor of course. But outside the bureau - well maybe I'm more of a confidant now. We've formed a support group a deux. We're both willing to lend a shoulder to lean on when things Mulder get too out of hand. At least I hope that's how I'm reading her. I think so. I am, after all, a good judge of reading people. A good manager is a good judge of character. I have to be. It's going to keep me alive in this business.

And you know, getting to know Dana Scully has been a pleasure. She's a brave, strong, woman with integrity, a great heart, and a hell of an intellect. Good dry sense of humor too. You see it once she trusts you a bit. Well, she'd have to have a slightly bent funny bone to put up with Mulder. She's also hard as nails when it comes to dealing with her partner. Steel fist in a velvet glove. And she's better at working Fox then I am. She knows how to get over on the brat because she's been doing it every day for close to 6 years now. But I'm observant. I'm taking notes. I can learn by example with the best of them.

So, I see Crossroads as magical again. It's magical because it gave me the most beautiful and memorable Christmas I've had in years. It's magical because it brought Mulder and Scully and I closer together. I have faith the magic will bring us closer together still now, during the week or so we'll be here. But last off all, Crossroads is magical because it's a small bubble of light and peace surrounded by the darkness that presses in and threatens us. I thank God for Crossroads and for this time here with friends. I really do. 

It's turned out to be a warm day. I can feel the spring sun beating down on the top of my baseball cap. I don't even need a jacket. The work shirt and jeans are comfortable enough. Yes, the sun feels warm and comforting too. God, I did need to relax. Some good honest, physical labor. The sun on my back and congenial company. What the hell more could a man want? He could want a beer I thought as I hammered in another nail.

Just as I thought about that cold brew Dennis interrupted my reverie, "Hey, let's take a lunch break you guys. I seriously need to refuel."

Dennis puts down the saw where he's been cutting the boards for the deck. He brushes sawdust off his jeans.

"You want a beer, WS?" Phil asks, laying down his hammer. He stands up next to me and flexes his back.

"You read my mind," I grin a little, setting my own hammer down on the half completed deck.

Dennis Carr and Phil Meyers. The owners of *Dragons' Roost*, their name for their house on land's end. When they asked me to come up here and help them build this deck off their back door I jumped at the chance. They thought it would be great for Mulder to come up as well. Of course he'd lend an extra pair of hands but they know how deeply we feel for each other. They know how we haven't been able to see much of each other since the reassignments.

Scully was a more interesting issue. I had told them she was Mulder's partner back during the Jana affair at Halloween. After Christmas I explained that Fox was bisexual and that Dana was also his lover. I had gotten Mulder's permission to reveal our arrangement to Dennis and Phil after he had Frohike run a more extensive back ground check on them both. I was pissed at first. I mean, come on. I do have some connections. I'd run them all ready. But Mulder insisted and after I saw just some of what Frohike was capable of doing I was impressed enough to realize Mulder was right to let him lose.

I don't know what I would have done if Dennis and Phil hadn't checked out. These two ex-Marines are my closest friends. They...well they're my only real contacts right now in the gay community. I still don't get out much. Oh, twice a month or so I still go down to Club 219. It's risky but I take the chance. You know, sometimes you just get sick of playing it straight. Dennis and Phil have been my main connection to the lifestyle, though. They're just good guys. They've been very supportive and I would have hated to lose their friendship because I found out they were dirty. At any rate, they're on the up and up according to Frohike's search. I owe the dwarf a beer, or two, or three for doing Mulder and I the favor. You think it's impolite for me to call him *the dwarf*? Would it salve your conscience if I told you Frohike calls me *Dr. Cyclops?* to my face? Ever see that old scifi movie? Mulder ran the video for me. Hey, Frohike's got balls of steel, I'll give him that. Ah, I like the turtle-assed little geek - seriously.

At any rate, when Dennis and Phil found out Scully was Mulder's lover they insisted on her being invited as well. It was only fair they said. Parity in the bedroom or some such line of bullshit. Listen, I know the ropes here. They love a fag hag as Fox would say. Boy are they in for a rude surprise. I'm not going to tell them that Dana Scully is as far from Liz Taylor as Larry Fortensky. Besides, Dennis and Phil are brimming over with quite natural curiosity about a woman agent at the bureau. A crack agent according to my and Mulder's well laid and truthful PR...and an investigator who is a doctor on top of everything else. So, they're dying to talk to her. Well hell, she needs the time off too. I'm glad they're inviting her, whatever the reason. Ok, and I'm glad she's coming as well. It...it will be good to see her too. You don't think I'm sincere? Well, listen - just to make sure she'd be included in the group - I told Dennis and Phil that Scully was an ace with a hammer. Hey, she is, her mother told me as much. There was no way she wasn't going to get an invitation to the *deck party* after that little revelation.

Deck party!? Christ. By the time I got up here Dennis and Phil had all ready poured all the footings, set the upright posts, railing posts and nailed on all the joists. The only thing left to do was construct the actual deck flooring, railings and stairs leading off the structure. Phil laughed when I planted my hands on my hips and asked him what the hell was left for us to do?

"You know how Dennis is, WS," Phil replied, "Once he gets going on a project it's full steam ahead until it's done."

"Yeah, besides," Dennis said, "I thought we all might appreciate a little vacation, right, Walter?"

And he couldn't have been more correct.

All three of us head back inside to the kitchen to make lunch. Dennis ends up at the kitchen counter. My route takes me over to the fridge but Phil heads me off.

"Sit down. Remember WS - you *are* a guest here...at least when you aren't pounding nails."

"Phil, I can get my own beer and sandwich."

"Now, I won't hear it. Dennis. Tell WS to sit down and act like a guest will you?"

"WS, sit down and act like a guest will you?" Dennis repeats in a deadpan voice. Dennis is the short, dark, muscular one of the pair. Kind of a more buff John Byers I guess you could say. He's slightly younger than Phil but the more serious of the two. I have a feeling Scully is going to enjoy his dry wit though. Mulder is going to try to keep up with him in the acerbic humor department. It should be an interesting competition. Dennis is the photographer who has adorned the walls of the house with his many expert and artistic photographs. Right now he busies himself getting some bread out of the bread box. 

"Oh shit, I left myself open for that one," Phil shakes his head as he moves me towards one of the kitchen chairs. Phil is short too - but red-headed and more wiry. It wouldn't be much of a stretch to see him as another Scully brother. But his resemblance is closer to someone Mulder and Scully and I knew once. Agent Pendrell. God, what a tragedy. Another needless, senseless death. I'd rather think of Phil as an older Scully relative I guess. Beats dredging up another bad memory.

At any rate, Phil was what they called a tunnel rat over in Nam. One of the unlucky bastards who was small enough to go down into the VC underground bunker complexes on search and destroy missions. Phil is very good with his hands. Months of crawling around in the dark and meeting VC out to cap you made him that way. He can kill a man with nothing but a knife or even a thin strand of wire as a garrote. Nowadays he's turned his talented hands in a much more benign direction. Phil's the potter. His work also decorates *Dragon's Roost* very artistically. So, both men are artists now. They exhibit their work in galleries across the United States.

I have to laugh as Phil maneuvers me until I'm almost successfully seated at the table. It just seems funny that he can shove me around. Of course, Phil's size is deceptive. Besides being able to kill a man with his bare hands, he's also a black belt in karate. Phil is perfectly capable of incapacitating a man my size with very little trouble and in many inventive ways.

I chuckle a little. It's difficult being pampered or treated as a guest. I'm not used to being in that situation unless I'm in a restaurant or at a hotel. It feels odd having friends catering to me, waiting on me. Of course I'm used to calling the shots most of the time. I'm used to being in control and in charge. I think Phil has made it one of his personal missions to get me to forget I hold the reins. To forget I wear my BVDs a size too small. Ok, figuratively. But you know what I mean.

"All right, I'm a guest, I'm a guest," I insist as Phil gives me one last push into the straight-backed kitchen chair. I let him settle me down. I take off my cap, tossing it on the table. Phil is satisfied at last. He makes a graceful turn towards the fridge, to extract my beer and the rest of the sandwich ingredients.

"Ham and Swiss or hard salami and provolone?"

"Ham and Swiss," I reply as he hands me my Becks.

"Den?" he asks his partner.

"Yeah, ham and Swiss sounds good."

"Well I'll dare to be different," Phil adds with a grin as he fishes for the salami and provolone."

"I know we have some lettuce in here," he says more or less to himself, as he roots around inside the fridges maw.

"Lower left bin, Phil," Dennis advises as he cuts slices of the homemade whole wheat bread he made fresh this morning. The breadmaker was a surprise. One of these days I'll have to buy one.

"Onions anyone?" Phil asks.

"No thank you," Dennis and I reply in unison. Phil laughs and nods, agreeing with us.

The shorter man brings out the meats, cheeses and lettuce cradled in his arms. He crosses to the kitchen cabinet and deposits the arm load on the counter next to his lover. I watch him return to the fridge for the mayo and mustard. Those go on the counter as well. Last but not least, out come two more beers for him and Dennis. He crosses to the counter again and places one next to the darker man. 

"You want me to help?" Phil asks rubbing Dennis's back. He has a brief smile for the other man.

"Nope. Why don't you go enjoy your beer," Dennis grins as I take another swig of my brew. Phil gives him a quick kiss on the cheek and Dennis grins wider. I look away and toy with my beer.

Dennis and Phil are so easy with each other. The casual display of their love doesn't change out in public either. They hold hands and touch a lot. I know I'm not much for PDA. Public expressions of affection weren't even a habit when I was with Sharon. The idea of showing my love for Mulder in public? Crap. Even if PDA did come easy for me - we can't do it out on the friggin' street. But here in this house, I think maybe I could at least make an effort to give the idea a shot.

But watching Dennis and Phil's easy interaction and obvious devotion to each other makes me suddenly miss Fox intensely. Phil comes over to the table and sits down across from me. I'm still lost in my thoughts and he gives my sweating green beer bottle a slight tap. The clink brings me back to reality.

"He'll be here soon," Phil advises quietly, divining my musings. 

"That obvious?" I ask in reply, eyebrow cocking a little.

"You could say that, WS. I'm just sorry Mulder couldn't have come up with you," he replies with a gentle smile as he opens his beer. He places the twisted off cap on the table top next to the one I've placed there.

I sigh a little and take another swig of the beer. Phil drinks some of his and watches me for my answer. After my swallow I oblige him.

"Well we were all coming separately in an attempt to cover our tracks, I guess. Better to be safe than sorry."

"Are things really that bad for the three of you?" he asks, concerned.

"It's none of our business, Phil," Dennis throws back over his shoulder.

I nod a little, "You probably don't want to know. But, yeah...I can tell you we have to be very cautious about this situation. And uh...not just because of bureau politics or regulations."

Phil nods and drinks some more beer. He's more than familiar with the necessity to keep your lip buttoned in certain situations. Phil was in special forces as well. Dennis was infantry and even he knows there are some things you don't tell anyone because it can cost lives.

I add a few comments to soften the moment anyway.

"Besides, Mulder and Scully are into looking like eager beavers for the FBI cause lately - on my advice. It sticks in Mulder's craw and Scully isn't overly happy about it either. But shit, if it will keep them out of Kersh's hot seat for a while and give me some time to maneuver it's worth it. If we play our cards right we may be able to uh...change some things at the bureau to our advantage eventually."

Before it's too late I think with a slight frown creeping across my mouth. Dennis comes over to join us with a plate piled high with sandwiches. He sets in down between us with a flourish.

"These should do for starters," he says, turning to retrieve his beer from the counter. He returns and sits down next to Phil. Phil and I stare at the plate for a moment. Christ. It's enough food for twice the number of guys.

"Well, don't stand on ceremony - we have to get back to work at some point," he laughs at the expression on our faces.

"If we're not bursting or comatose," Phil shakes his head with a smile.

"Hey, the way I'm gonna drive you guys this afternoon -you're gonna need the calories," Dennis replies taking a sandwich in hand. 

My frown is a distant memory as I join in the laughter, and taking up a sandwich begin to do my best to fortify myself for the afternoon of work that lies ahead.

xXx

Friday, May 21, 1999 2 PM

The Interstate somewhere between DC and Crossroads, Maine

Crossroads. I'm still ambivalent about this trip. I know I told Mulder I needed the vacation. I do need the time off. Lord, so does he. Both of us are so downtrodden right now. Exhaustion has become an even more typical and familiar bodily state for both of us. But I don't even want to think about that at the moment. If I do, I'm going to feel even worse because Mulder is in Holyoke busting his chops to catch that rapist and I'm...well I'm not sure what I'm doing.

Ostensibly I'm driving up to Crossroads, Maine to help build a deck for my hosts and maybe lie on it afterwards or on the beach under the early spring sun. In reality I'm driving up to Crossroads to spend my time off with three gay men - one of whom is Walter Skinner, my ex-boss and Mulder's other lover. Mother Mary. But Mulder was so eager, so excited about us all getting together. I didn't have the heart to say no. And like I said - I really need to get away and relax. I'm just not so sure this is going to fill the bill in that area.

All right, yes. Walter (and believe me it's still a little difficult for me to call him by his Christian name on occasion), and I are getting along a whole lot better now. Ok, we're getting along more than better. I think...I'm actually starting to believe that Walter is going to be a good friend. A confidant. Someone I can confide in about Mulder. He's becoming my support group and God knows, with Fox Mulder as my partner and lover, I can use some support. But if anyone had told me six months ago that I would be sitting down with Walter S. Skinner and discussing our mutual lover I would have told them to kiss my Smith and Wesson. The suggestion would have been too close to the shit we've been shoveling lately to be anything but a load of crap. Or an X-File. But for me it's been more of a reality check.

Walter and I have been talking quite a lot lately. We've had dinner several times. Met for coffee. At first it wasn't easy to carry on a conversation with him at all. I mean, God. He is, or rather was *The Boss*. Sitting there and trying to talk to him as an equal was like having your teeth filled at first. You know the feeling - your mouth is all numb and full of saliva? When I was first assigned to AD Skinner I was warned to watch out. Other agents painted such a horrendous picture of him by the time Mulder and I had our first meeting with him I was expecting Grendel. Well, I wasn't far from wrong. He was one tough muther as my brother Charles is so found of saying. I tend to think, in hindsight, that he was tough but as fair as he could be under the circumstances. But regardless, I was scared to death of him even though I gave him the respect he was due as our supervisor. Besides, he is a good manager and was a crack field agent too. I checked. Make no bones about it - he was good before he made it to pencil pushing. Still is a consummate professional when he has to go into the field. Baton Rouge was a prime example of his talent there.

But I was nervous talking with him. Besides his being the AD, I also had just a *little* trouble getting over seeing him with my partner in that hotel room. God, I still blush when I think about that incident. Good Lord! Just entertaining the idea that Skinner would be on the receiving end so to speak...Jesus spare me. Well ok, I wasn't totally disgusted by seeing them together. There was something...sensual and really beautiful about two such attractive men expressing their love for each other. But I was shocked to see that private act and also I wasn't quite prepared to think that Fox and Walter...that they really were deeply in love with each other. Seeing the expression on Mulder's face when they were having sex that night left no doubt he was devoted to Walter. I mean for heaven's sake...I've looked into his face enough while we're making love to know that look. What am I saying? I've had that look on my own face. At any rate, it didn't leave any doubt in my mind.

And the thought frightened me. The idea of abandonment reared its ugly head. I do love Mulder. I need him in so many ways. It's almost a weakness and sometimes I deplore that need. But it's unreasonable of me to feel that way. Why should I deny myself love and happiness with this man? I know he loves me beyond life itself. I'd have to say the feeling is mutual. So, losing him to anyone would hurt. It angered me. The depth of my jealousy terrified me.

Also, the fact that they didn't have more restraint and as a result I was privy to their lovemaking really corked me. I mean come on guys - didn't you realize I might panic if I heard Mulder moaning in there? Spender could have given him a concussion after all. I was so angry also when Mulder turned my justifiable complaints around on me afterwards. I could have shot him again. The jealousy fueled my anger as well. I needed to distance myself from them both. At the time I didn't even know if I could be with Mulder any more at all. I wasn't sure if I could handle the implications of everything he wanted with the three way relationship. Sharing him was a concept I wasn't sure I was capable of handling. So, I told him I needed to stay out of his bed for a while to gain some equilibrium. I just needed to catch my breath and stop my head from spinning.

Eventually we did reconcile. I agreed to give the share and share alike thing with Walter a try. If Mulder hadn't made a mature effort in that direction I have to confess I might have just let it all go. After I took time to consider the situation I concluded as painful as it would have been to lose him...I wanted him to be happy. If being happy meant a life with Skinner than fine. He could go with the AD. But as it turned out Walter's efforts to broker a peace treaty helped me to realize maybe the situation could work out. I have to say he surprised me with the depth of his desire to see Fox happy as well - regardless of which partner he chose. He was willing to walk away and let Fox and I have each other. I could see it would practically kill him too, and it touched me to hear him make the offer. I never...well I never saw Walter Skinner as a real person before I suppose. I certainly never saw him as gay, and I never thought about him being a loving partner for my partner. But you know...he is, and he's good for Mulder. I can see that Mulder is good for him too.

Since Walter has been with Mulder I've noticed a softening there. Surly Skinner is being tempered by love I guess. He smiles more. Laughs. Oh, not at the office mind you. He does have a reputation as a hard nose to maintain there. But outside the bureau he's not as concerned with being a bastard any longer. No, Walter isn't nearly as closed off and choleric any more at all. I think he's found some joy in his life now. I have to admit it's a pleasant thing to see. I'm more comfortable around him. I sense he's more comfortable around me. Still...

Spending a little over a week with him and his two friends after I have to tell him Mulder is not coming up until later - or may not be coming at all - is not going to be a marvelous situation. Walter is going to be devastated I'm sure. Oh, he'll try not to show it, but I know he's going to revert to bastard mode. I would. I mean he's really been looking forward to this time with Mulder. He orchestrated the whole trip after all. The reassignment, separation, Spender and all the other pain in the neck bureau business have made a vacation something Walter desperately needs as well. And Lord knows we all need a moments peace from the dark tide that threatens to close in over our heads.

So, being the bearer of bad tidings under these circumstances, is not my cup of tea. And picking up pieces of *Shattered Surly Skinner* isn't my cup of tea either.

So, right now I'm sitting in a rest stop somewhere near Hadley, Maine, the car windows rolled down, my cell phone on the seat, and indecision preying on my mind. I'm trying to decide if I should let Walter know now, before I arrive, about the Mulder situation or wait until I get there to give him the bad news.

One part of my mind says - why ruin his whole day by telling him now? I might as well just continue driving and tell him the whole unfortunate series of events when I finally see him face to face. God. I feel so sorry for him. I miss Mulder so much myself it's almost painful. I hate to think what this is going to do to Skinner. 

The other part of my mind is cringing...face to face? Are you insane, Dana Scully? Telling a lonely, stressed out and probably horny Walter S. Skinner that his equally lonely, stressed out, and equally as horny, man isn't going to make it to their vacation rendezvous is tantamount to suicide. Are you crazy? Pick up that cell phone and dial, woman! Dial now!

I sigh. What the heck should I do? I know! I'll get a Diet Coke and visit the ladies room. The fresh air and leg stretch will help to get my mind more in gear I hope. I nod, grabbing my purse. Exiting my car I head towards the McDonalds that makes up part of the service area complex.

xXx

Friday, May 21, 1999 2:45 PM Crossroads, Maine.

"Ok, steady it. Great. OK. Hang on."

Phil is helping me to place another long board on the deck. We get it spaced with the board next to it and each of us prepares to nail it to the joists below. Dennis has finished cutting all the boards for the deck flooring at this point. He's started on the boards that will be used to construct the stairs now.

Just as I'm about ready to pick up the hammer again, my cell phone beeps. I've got it in the pocket of my jeans. Force of habit of course. I pull it out and flip up the top hoping as I do so that this isn't the God damn bureau calling to ruin my day...or my week. Dennis cuts the saw off and Phil stops pounding his nails as I place the phone to my mouth and ear.

"Skinner," I bark.

"Sir, it's Scully."

All the blood rushes to my head in one mighty tidal wave. My guts spasm. Something must have happened to Fox I think in panic. The expression on my face must show my fear before I can get it under control because both Dennis and Phil are standing by my side in seconds.

"What's wrong!?" I manage to croak into the phone.

"Oh God, I'm sorry, Walter. Mulder's fine. I didn't mean for this to frighten you," she lets out in a rush. Well shit on a shingle. It's my own fault my blood pressure went off the scale. I jumped to a conclusion that was natural though, I suppose. After all, in the six years I've known them both a cell phone call from Scully usually meant Mulder was in the fucking hospital, or missing, or missing and presumed dead. God. I let my breathe out in a hiss.

"It's ok. Force of habit I guess," I hasten to reassure her as I master control of my body and mind.

"Still I should have used my head and not made it sound like a damn business call. I'm sorry, Walter. Really."

Dennis motions with his head, asking to know what's going on.

"Can you hang on for a second?" I ask Scully.

"Sure."

I turn to them both.

"Is something wrong with Fox or Dana?" Phil asks, his brow furrowed in worry.

""No, sounds like something minor. Maybe they're just going to be late. I'll find out," I add, going back to the phone.

"I'm sorry, Dennis and Phil were concerned."

"Oh. Well Fox is fine. Really. Uh, but I do have some unpleasant news."

Oh crap. She can't make it I think. What a fucking drag.

"What's up?" I ask, the sympathy at her situation coming out in my voice.

"Well I don't know any other way to tell you this Walter," she begins.

"Oh, well, it's ok..." I begin to interrupt her.

"Fox isn't coming," she breaks in, her voice quiet but deadly serious.

"What?"

"Fox is going to be delayed. I...I'm not sure how long. Kersh called him into his office early this morning and assigned him to a VCS rape case in Holyoke Massachusetts. He's gone up there to do the profile."

"VCS profile? Where the hell was Gallago?"

"Agent Gallago is in Clearwater, Florida on the Madsen case. Mulder was the only available man for the job. Walter, the rapist was escalating. It...it was a legitimate case."

I sigh deeply and run my hand over my brow. I bring it back down, then up under my glasses to rub the bridge of my nose. Of course Mulder would have been the best man for the job. I can't fault Kersh there. In a situation like Holyoke he has to allocate his best resources. Shit. I've done the same thing to Mulder myself. But Christ all mighty, why now? I feel like flying up to Holyoke, finding the perp and wringing his neck myself. But instead, my heart and mind heavy, I reply to Dana Scully.

"Yes. Kersh was right. Mulder had to be assigned to Burton. So, he's in Holyoke now?"

"Yes. He did call me briefly to let me know he'd arrived safely. He didn't have time to make any other calls," she adds gently.

"I understand. Well, this..."

"Stinks. I know Walter. I'm sorry."

"I appreciate that Scully. But look - you're still coming aren't you?" I inquire hopefully.

"As a matter of fact I'm sitting at a rest stop near a town called Hadley right now," I can hear a little smile in her voice.

I suddenly realize that it really will be good to see her. And with Fox not coming up right away I think that idea of a support a deux is going to come in handy once she gets here.

"Oh, well, that's...that's great. Uh, you're a little over two hours away. Should put you up here right around 5 PM. Dinner time." 

"Ok. I'll see you then."

"Scully?"

"Yes?"

"Thanks for calling ahead. I'm...I'm rather glad you didn't hit me with this just before dinner."

She chuckles a little and I think I can hear the relief in the sound. Well yeah. I can imagine what must have been going through her mind over having to give me this news. Christ on a crutch.

"Speaking of dinner. Can I stop on the way and pick up anything? Wine?"

"No, no. We have dinner under control, including the wine. Hope you like New England clam chowder."

Dinner is going to be chowder, a huge Ceasar salad, more fresh homemade bread and wine.

"Adore it."

"Good deal. Ok, so...we'll see you around 5 then."

"All right. Take care. And Walter, really...I am sorry."

"No problem. Safe trip."

"Thanks."

She hangs up and I close the phone with a dejected flip of my hand.

xXx

Friday, May 21, 1999, 5 PM, Dragon's Roost.

As I'm driving up the approach road I realize just how different the house looks from the way it did in winter. At first I wasn't sure I had the right address. But no, it's the same house. I recognize that window to the master bedroom now. I should. I threw caution and snowballs to the wind when I hit it trying to wake Mulder up that winter morning.

Besides the window I also spot the large ceramic dragon that forms the mailbox pole and top piece that Walter told me about. It's outrageously fantastic - quite ornate and very cleverly done. *Dragon's Roost* my hosts call the house overlooking the sea. I'll have to ask them why they named it *Dragon's Roost* when I have a chance.

I'm still nervous about confronting Walter. Well not confronting. I was all ready confrontational enough during my call to him. I blew that one on the phone. God, I can't believe how thoughtless I was there. But I just fell into FBI mode when I made the call. It was my way of coping with giving him the bad news. I made it sound like a call from the field. I heard the terror in Walter's voice though. I was so sorry.

He sounded more normal by the time the call was over. Understanding. But AD Skinner is a master at controlling his emotions. He can be dying inside and you'll never know it. I just hope that's not what's going on now. I really do. It's going to make this hard on us both. I'd rather have him go ballistic then cold and uncommunicative. Well, there's no sense in worrying about it now. I'm here and I'll just have to wait and see what happens. To survey the lay of the land before I know how to approach the case here.

I pull my car up into the driveway in back of what must be Walter's rental SUV. There are two more cars in the garage. Someone left the two and half car garage doors open. Ah, I see why - there's a long electrical extension cord running from the garage around to the back of the house. Oh yes, the deck project. Well, that could be a welcome diversion, not to mention rather enjoyable. I used to help Ahab with his carpentry projects when I was in high school. For some reason neither Bill or Charlie was as interested in his woodworking. But I was fascinated by building things. So, he was more than happy to show me how to be a good carpenter. The knowledge has come in handy a couple of times since he passed away when Mom needed help around the house in an emergency.

I brake and cut the ignition. Ok. This is it. Into the line of fire I tell myself as I get out of the car. I'll get my luggage after I've gone to the door and knocked on it. I walk up onto the porch recalling a cold dusk in December when I stood out here and used the door knocker to herald my arrival back into Fox Mulder's life, and more fully into Walter Skinner's life as well.

Four hard knocks and the door swings open. My breath catches in my throat for a moment. In the shadows inside the entry area, a man barely taller then me, stands there holding the door open. For a split second he looks all the world like Brian Pendrell. The hair on the back of my neck stands up as I remember poor Agent Pendrell dying on the floor of that bar.

"Dana Scully?" the red-haired man asks with a smile?

"I'm sorry," I blink and smile back, "Yes, you are?"

"Phil. Phil Meyers. Come on in. Welcome to *Dragon's Roost," he replies practically vibrating with pleasure. He clasps my outstretched hand and pumps it, pulling me inside at the same time. 

"Den! Den! Dana's here!" he shouts towards the kitchen area, "you don't mind that I call you Dana do you?" he adds, shutting the door behind us. He frowns at himself and turns on the front porch light. 

"Sorry. I should have turned that on earlier," he apologizes.

"No, no, that's fine. The light and Dana both I mean," I laugh getting caught up in his bonhomie. Now that we're under the light spilling out from the living room I can see he's a good deal older, than Pendrell would have been, with some gray in his flame red hair. But nevertheless the resemblance is quite strong. He has little laugh crinkles at the corners of his eyes and around his mouth. Just like Pendrell often had. For some reason I like him almost immediately. Maybe because he reminds me a little of Charlie as well. Although he's about two feet shorter than my baby brother.

A second, slightly taller and rather swarthy man comes forward from the back of the house.

"Ah. Ms. Scully, you're just in time for dinner. Welcome. I'm Dennis Carr."

"It's Dana, Dennis," I reply, moving to extend my hand.

I can smell the delicious and tantalizing odor of clam chowder wafting out towards us from the kitchen. My stomach takes that moment to growl mightily and I know I'm reddening in embarrassment.

"Sounds like almost too late," Dennis laughs. He comes close and extends a hand as well. I shake it. His handshake is firm, warm and his smile is just as warm and genuine.

"Can we help you with your luggage?" he asks glancing around.

"Oh, it's in the car. Sure, I'd appreciate it. Uh...where's Walter?" I ask suddenly realizing he's missing from our little greeting scene here.

Phil shuffles his feet a little and replies, "Why don't I go get the luggage. I'll be right back."

Dennis shakes his head ruefully as Phil opens the door and heads out onto the porch.

"He'll be back in a second. He doesn't have your keys does he?" Dennis grins a little at me. He's dead on. The other man comes back a few seconds later, a sheepish look on his face.

"Forgot to get your keys."

Boy does he remind me of Brian Pendrell. I extend my keys towards him quickly and he takes them gratefully.

"Thanks very much, Phil," I call after his retreating back.

"No problem," he calls back.

I turn to Dennis a little worried now. Where the devil is Skinner? 

"Now, where's Walter?"

"Oh, he's ok, Dana. At least I think he'll be ok. We knocked off work on the deck about an hour ago. But he was pretty restless after your phone call. I suggested he take a walk before we ate dinner." 

"And before I arrived?"

He smiles knowingly. I can see Dennis reads Walter Skinner rather well. Hmmm. I like this guy too. He's got deep, brown, almost black eyes that are both wise and kind. I can tell why Walter considers him a good friend.

"Ah, yes. They do say the Irish are perceptive don't they?" he smiles at me showing his perfect white teeth.

"We have our moments," I nod in acknowledgment with a small answering smile.

"Walter's down on the beach. I think I noticed he'd stopped walking a short time ago. I believe you'll find him sitting on the first bluff as you hit the beach. Why don't you go down there and tell him you're here. Phil and I can get your luggage into the guest room. Dinner isn't quite ready yet anyway."

"Ok, thanks Dennis. I appreciate it."

"My pleasure Dana. And Dana..."

"Yes?" I reply as I'm walking towards the kitchen and the back door.

"Watch your step, the deck isn't anywhere near completion."

I nod my thanks. Watch your step? Did I sense a double meaning in his words? I turn and make my way to find out.

xXx

Sand and sea. Tide. Something is calming about the sound of the tide coming in from the sea. A tide on a spring night can slip on in and lap gently, making a swooshing, sliding noise against the sand. It's a sound that lulls the heart and the mind in a most pleasing way.

I walked for close to an hour, trying to let the sounds of the sea tide sweep over the sand and enter my body to still my mind. After an hour I felt somewhat more settled and I decided to sit and watch the darkening waves until Dennis or Phil called me in for dinner. It occurred to me that Scully would be arriving soon. I thought vaguely that I should go back to the house and greet her. But I couldn't bring myself to get up off the dune I was sitting on. All I could think about as the minutes ticked by, was Fox Mulder, how much I loved him, and how sorry I was that he wasn't going to be here with us tonight.

God, Skinner you've got it bad I thought. Well fuck it - so what. After 30 odd years of denying myself any semblance of satisfaction with someone who obviously cares for me as much as I care for him (not to mention sexual ecstasy the likes of which my most fevered mind would never have even dreamed of much less imagined), I'm entitled to lose my head a little aren't I? I want to howl at the moon for Christ sake. *Hey world, Walter Sergei Skinner finally got lucky in love. Kiss my tight ass you fuckers. I'm happy at last.* So, don't criticize me for aching because I miss him. Don't you ever. 

These musings grind through my mind while I feel the sea breeze ruffle through what little hair I have left. I sniff the salt tang that the wind brings along with it. It's refreshing, and it clears my head at last. I almost think I can go back to the house and face dinner, Dennis, Phil and ultimately, Dana Scully. Just as I contemplate getting off my ass, someone clears their throat behind me. If I hadn't recognized the sound of that small noise having heard it so many times before I might have pulled out my Glock. But I didn't even jump.

"Walter?"

"Scully," I reply rising at last and turning to look at the petite red head standing in back of me on the border of where the grass meets the sand.

"Dennis said you were out here," she offers quietly. I can see her obvious nervousness. She must still think I'm going to roar and then bite her head off. Well, to be fair there is precedent. Kill the messenger used to be a motto of mine.

"Yeah, I was...I was getting some fresh air."

"It's beautiful out here," she whispers looking out over the waves and then up at the stars.

For a brief moment, looking at her, a flush moves through my body. She's an exquisite woman I realize gazing at her as she looks up. I can see why Mulder is attracted to her plays across the back of my mind. As quick as the thought surfaces however it submerges again. It's my turn to cough, bringing her focus away from the heavens and down to my little plot of earth again.

"It's good to see you, Scully," I reply straightening up a little further. I don't want her to think I was sitting out here wallowing in self pity even though I was soaking in it, "yeah, it is great out here, uh...some view," I add. Shit that was lame.

"It's good to see you too, Walter," she replies with a half smile. 

We stand looking everywhere but at each other for several heartbeats. Well Christ. This is asinine...

"Look, Scully...I'll be all right. I'm sorry. Walking, and then sitting out here has helped me to get used to this unfortunate turn of events. I'm a big boy - I'll adjust.

This type of thing used to happen between Sharon and I when we were married after all. She was able to cope. I'm sure I will," I nod at her with terse matter-of-fact finality.

Oh sure Sharon and I coped. She missed me and was stoic about our many separations when I was a field agent. I missed her but I was more than a little glad not to be there to confront the fact that we were growing farther apart then even the miles duty forced upon me. But I never missed her as much as this. As much as I'm missing Fox Mulder. God, I feel like a black hole has re-opened inside, and it's doing it's best to suck what little light may still be left in my soul right over the blue event horizon and into the dark collapsing star at it's core.

"Nice speech, sir," Scully breaks into my angst filled musings. 

"What?"

"I said that was a very pretty speech Mr. Skinner. I bet you say that to all the agents."

"What the hell was wrong with what I said?" I bristle a bit at her. Oh yeah right. I should have taken into account that she'd recognize prime AD Speak when she heard it. Balls.

"Nothing, if I was just one of your agents and we were in the office. But...I rather thought we were beyond that now, Walter. I thought I wasn't just *one of the agents* any more. We...well...I guess I'm just trying to say if you consider me a friend you don't have to uh...bullshit me like that any longer," she adds the last bit with a wrinkling of her face like she thinks maybe she went to far and pushed my anger button. In reality, she's switched it off. I'm kind of amused and ok, yeah, chastised successfully all right. God yeah, we're beyond that crap now. Way beyond, it seems. I'm flattered and deep down - very thankful.

"Are you calling me a bullshitter Agent Scully?" I growl.

"No! Uh..." she stutters looking down at her toes.

I laugh and her head snaps up. She starts to smile tentatively. 

"Gottcha," I chuckle and then her whole body relaxes. Mine does as well. In fact I sag into myself a bit. It's too much holding myself up sometimes. Christ on a crutch I'd just like to let it all go one of these days. Jesus. Maybe I should think about fucking early retirement.

Scully draws over and takes my hand in hers for a moment. I stop thinking to look down at her. You know, she has really clear blue eyes.

"I'm serious about being a friend, Walter. I mean you, and I, and Mulder. Maybe we're all we have in this thing - in whatever's coming. Oh, Lord - that sounds so three Musketeerish...." she tries to take her hand from mine but I hold it tight.

I grin a little, "But damn straight up, Scully. I know you're sincere. I appreciate it too. I know what you've said comes from the heart."

She nods and plunges on.

"Look., Walter. I know you're missing Mulder like hell. I'm going to miss him too. So...we're both stuck, and ...and you don't have to hold it all in, sir. I may be short, but my shoulders are fairly wide."

I bark a quick laugh because standing this close I can't help but notice how much taller I am. But yeah, she's got wide shoulders. And a backbone of steel too.

"Scully, it's Walter. We've all ready agreed that friends don't call each other sir and agent, right?" I reply in a soft voice.

She smiles up at me. Her face is much more serene and she drops my hand.

Suddenly her stomach growls loudly and she blushes in embarrassment.

"God, where are my manners?" I ask with chagrin, "You must be starving."

"Gee, how could you tell?" she giggles.

It took Scully a long time to giggle in front of me. It took me a while to get used to her doing it. But now I have to admit it's kind of...sort of fun to see her do it.

Just as she replies and I have my idle thought, we hear Phil yelling from the half finished deck.

"COME AND GET IT YOU TWO! SOUPS ON!"

I stretch out my arm.

"Madame?" I ask raising an eyebrow down at Scully.

"Monsieur," she smiles taking my arm in hers.

We climb back off the dunes and towards very welcome bowls of hot New England clam chowder.

xXx

 

* * *

 

xXx

I have a confession to make - I'm not overly worldly wise. Wait. That didn't quite come out right. Sounds facile too in view of what Mulder and I do for a living doesn't it? Surprising in my line of work you might say. But it's not far off really. There are just some arcane, some isolated areas in life I'm not totally in the know on. Fashions (ok, maybe petite sizes). Dating - even pre-Mulder. Where to go on my next vacation. All kinds of mundane life stuff. Gee I wonder why?

But being an FBI agent and a forensic pathologist have taught me a lot of useful lessons. Some good ones. And some not very good ones at all. The job exposes you to the worst lessons in life I suppose. The really bad lessons like the ones on death in it's many violent, horrible forms - and decay as well. No, as an agent and pathologist you certainly don't run into some of the finer things - or finer people for that matter. Fine people like Dennis and Phil, and Walter too. Fine gay men in particular I should say.

Look, I haven't had that much experience with the gay lifestyle. Certainly I'd had some before I became an adult. But not much. Ahab's career left little possibility for us to be exposed to diversity of any kind really. In the Navy life we didn't even see many African Americans, Asians or Hispanics when I was young. Good grief, we didn't see very many women in the regular Navy - oh there were the WAVES of course - but it wasn't like it is now. Gay men although I'm sure they were there, certainly didn't proclaim their preferences to the military world. Far from it. Gays went to great lengths to hide their love. It must have been hell for them. Still is I guess, even with *don't ask, don't tell*.

After I became Mulder's lover and he confessed his bisexuality to me, we started to go out to the gay clubs. Of course we went to the straight clubs too. I don't know though - I kind of enjoy the gay dance clubs more. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that ok, I'm a fool for dancing. The music and dancing is always good in the gay clubs. The ambiance. I love to dance. I'm a dancing fool my grandfather Scully would have said. Mulder kids me about it but something just gets in my blood when that beat starts to thump. Losing myself on the dance floor is one of my outlets to relieve stress. Some people do aerobics. I run too of course, and so does Mulder. But sometimes, a night out on the dance floor with Mulder at a gay club is worth more in the way of burning off tension and calories than any marathon would be.

The other reason I like the gay clubs I suppose is because I don't feel like a piece of meat in there. Oh once in a while a lesbian will hit on me - but so what? It's flattering I have to admit, and the women seem to be courteous enough to take no for an answer. Men in straight clubs aren't always willing to back off. I remember one altercation Mulder and I had with some bozo at Club Nitro once...well never mind. It's just less pressure for me at the gay clubs. Mulder doesn't seem to care. He gets groped wherever we go. I have to laugh. I know he likes it! But to his credit, when he's with me - he's with me. Totally focused on yours truly.

So, sitting here in the kitchen of Dragon's Roost, I'm starting to watch all three of these men with growing interest. It's probably partly the scientist in me wanting to watch and observe. I want to learn more, to understand something I don't, despite my trips to the gay clubs, have that much understanding about. Also, it's great because I don't feel pressured to...ok, perform. You know - be on - look good because there's a room full of eligible men here. Yes, I know that doesn't sound like me. But sometimes - in a weak moment - I'll find myself trying to stand up taller or smooth my hair down when a bunch of male agents are standing around the elevator with me. I'm just like anyone else sometimes. I want to look attractive and desirable. So sue me.

But the main reason I'm watching them all is they're just great people. All of them. I'm amazed at them all. Regardless of sexual preference anyone who is this...this comfortable with strangers interests me. I...I still have some trouble in that area. I know I do so I can appreciate the ability of others to be at ease in this type of situation.

They're all so...so alive. Dennis and Phil so hospitable. I mean they don't know me from Adam, but Dennis and Phil are going out of their way to make me feel welcome. They're just so sweet. And God, Phil's hilarious. He's regaling us all with accounts of buyers at their last gallery showing and I'm in stitches with laughter.

Dennis's home cooked meal is fantastic. I'm getting the recipe for this clam chowder. If Mulder never does make it up here, we are going to have to try making this soup on a rainy afternoon. It's stupendous.

Amidst all the convivial conversation and good food I can't help but notice how much Walter Skinner is trying to come out of himself. It's a struggle though. I've caught him staring off into space more than once while Dennis, Phil and I were getting acquainted through conversation. But he really is making the effort to be open, warm and more upbeat.

Well, in truth, so am I. I guess I owe myself a pat on the back as well. I miss Mulder right now so much. There is a heavy ache in my chest. A heartache I'm finding it difficult to ignore too. Mulder would love this easy going banter and the scrumptious food. God. But I suppose Walter and I have just discovered something else we both have in common. Stoicism in the face of adversity. He's the master and I'm the mistress in that area if we're going to get gender specific here.

So, it's rather incredible to see him laughing and smiling. Joining in with the camaraderie. It's very nice really. It *is* helping me to relax and feel better as well. Walter is just no where near as tight outside the office as he used to be. He even told a couple of really ribald stories about Jana Cassidy. Well, a couple that weren't too ribald anyway. He's not *Mr. Walter Lettermen* or completely unwound - but the spring is uncoiling a bit here. It's good to see.

I have to laugh as well because Phil is flirting with him a little. It's obvious he likes Walter a lot and is trying to cheer him up by playing up to his *Mr. Macho AD* persona. Well, Walter does exude masculinity. You can't help but notice it. I remember the first time I ever saw him in casual clothes. At first it seemed strange not to see him in his usual bureau attire. He looks very handsome in a suit. But, Skinner in casual clothing does grows on you. Like tonight. He looks splendid in jeans. Just a hint of chest hair peaks up out of his soft LL Bean beige work shirt. Work boots. When we got back in the house and I saw him in those jeans under the lights...I looked at his butt. So? Wouldn't you? I'm just making an observation here. But I can understand what Mulder sees in Walter on a purely physical level. I'm also beginning to see what he sees in Walter on the inside as well.

So, Phil is fluttering around Mr. Skinner a little. Making Walter feel special this evening. What's even more funny is, I don't think Walter has a clue that Phil is complimenting him. He just keeps looking at him out of the corner of his eye with a puzzled look on his face. I never imagined in a million years that Walter Skinner would be so clueless as to how attractive he is to other people - of either gender. But Mulder and I have talked about the idea. Oh yeah, more times then I want to think about right at the moment. So now that I'm seeing evidence of that theory displayed before me I guess I can't deny it. Walter doesn't know he's worthy of admiration. He doesn't even know when someone is trying to massage his ego in these conditions. Either that or he does realize and doesn't think he's worth the trouble. God that's a sad thought. But it's still a bit amusing to watch Phil's attempts at ego boosting and Walter's befuddlement nonetheless.

During one particularly blatant attempt at flattery on Phil's part, Dennis catches my eye and we both roll ours in unison. He knows what his partner is doing and doesn't mind it. They are both trying to cheer Walter up in point of fact. It makes them go up another notch on my self-esteem meter. They know he's hurting. Missing Mulder. Dennis' method was to fix this magnificent meal. Phil's method is to make Walter feel like the center of attention. Like the most desirable person in the room.

Good heaven's - they're going out of their way to make me welcome and less sad as well! It's really so kind.

It's obvious though by the way Phil acts towards Dennis that none of his flirting with Walter is serious. When he and Dennis look at each other there is no doubt the devotion they have for each other. I know the look. I've seen it when Mulder looks at Walter. I've seen it when Mulder looks at me.

"So, Dana did Walter tell you we're putting you to work tomorrow on Dragon's Roosts new deck?" Phil asks as he pours me another cup of coffee.

"Yes he did. I'm looking forward to it actually."

"Yeah, Walter said you're a good carpenter," Dennis adds from his spot at the sink.

We're done with dinner and he's starting to wash some of the pots and pans. The other dishes are already loaded into the dish washer. Walter asked to help wash the pans but Dennis wouldn't hear any of it. We're guests he said - until tomorrow. Then we're deck slaves. 

"I said she was a first rate carpenter," Walter nods, taking a sip of his coffee.

He's become more brooding again as the table was cleared and coffee made. During the lull in the conversation I caught him fingering something under his shirt and staring off into space again. This is the first real comment he's made beside nods or grunts for about 20 minutes. After he sends out this clipped comment he's quiet again and stares into his coffee cup.

"Well good, because we really can use a fourth pair of hands. Especially a good pair. Who taught you the trade?" Dennis asks.

Phil returns the coffee pot to the counter top coffee maker, and returns to sit down next to me at the table. I can feel the warmth radiating off him. He's a live wire. Energetic. Smiling. Once again I'm eerily reminded of Brian Pendrell as he looks at me.

"I would bet on fatherly instruction. But then again -you have great hands, Dana. Did you ever think of taking up sculpting or pottery, or maybe weaving?" Phil asks, taking one of my hands and turning it over in his.

Evidently Walter does recognize when Phil is *flirting* with me. 

"Yeah, she's all ready taken up weaving. The "Y" stitch," he comments under his breath. I scowl at him a little and he sighs, not looking at me.

Luckily Phil didn't hear him. Phil releases my hand and is asking Dennis if we should have brandy in the living room. Walter is only half listening to us now. He has that far away look on his face again. There must be something floating in his coffee cup he's looking at it so closely. Lord. I decide to answer Phil. To say something to break the air of tension.

"My father loved woodworking. Whenever he wasn't at sea he'd usually have a small project going. Once we built a playhouse for all of us. I just sort of fell into helping him. My brothers never seemed interested in dad's hobby. So, I got undivided instruction - and viola - extra help!" I finish with a smile.

"Good deal," Dennis replies, drying a pot and placing it in the drainer by the sink. Phil is staring intently at Walter. He still looks morose although he does attempt some desultory words.

"This is great coffee," he offers, taking another hearty sip of the brew.

"We laid in some Sumatran, WS," Phil replies with a grin, "I can't do without it in the morning and I remembered you're in the same boat."

Walter brightens a little at Phil's words.

"Yeah. We did kind of discover our mutual addiction the last time I was up here didn't we? Thanks for remembering, Phil," he finishes smiling just a little.

"Don't mention it."

Ok. Despite all the good times here I have to take into account that he's probably not in the best mood after all. But I have to give him credit he's been doing a good job of trying to stay cheerful. He looks away but when he looks back I can see the look of apology on his face and in his bearing. He knows he's not in a good mood. It looks as though he regrets inflicting himself on us. I nod a little to signify I understand. I try to project compassion and understanding. I know how he feels, believe me. Like I said, I wish Mulder could have been here for this meal too. A lot. He must pick up on it because his eyes soften a little. Then he goes back to studying his coffee cup.

"Walter, how about some brandy?" Phil is asking.

"What? Oh, I'm sorry..."

"Brandy?" Dennis asks coming over with the towel in his hands. He wipes them off and then places one dry hand on Walter's shoulder. 

"How about some brandy in front of the fire. It's a cool enough out tonight to start one. Phil can go build it."

Walter's jaw muscles untighten and he smiles a little up at Dennis.

"Yeah, that sounds good? Scully?"

"An after dinner liqueur would be very nice," I reply in a soft voice.

"Ok why don't the three of you head on in and I'll be there in a few minutes. I just want to add the detergent and start the dishwasher.

All three of us nod and get up, making our way into the living room and the brandy snifters on the small bar cart.

Later...

Phil builds a good fire. The room is dark except for the fire light. I'm sitting on the chair on the right hand side of the hearth nearest the window, brandy snifter in hand. Walter is opposite me on the other side of the hearth. He's smiling and sniffing at his brandy. It really does smell eloquent. Mellow.

Dennis and Phil are seated, but not too close, on the couch. I can tell what's going through their minds. They want to cuddle up together on the couch but they feel awkward about doing it. I doubt it's because of my presence. I suppose it could be though. After all they do know Mulder is my lover as well. I've been able to tell all night that they've been concerned about both Walter and my feelings. They're perceptive men and realize also that I'm upset that Mulder isn't here too. And after all, it's not quite the same thing for me to see two men snuggle together under the circumstances. It's not as disturbing. I guess if one of them was a woman I might make more of an association between me and Mulder.

But Walter more or less arranged this whole trip so that he and Mulder could have some time together. In the back of my mind I know Walter was very generous to invite me. I mean he does like me and doesn't really object to Mulder and my part of the bargain at all anymore. But I would imagine he rather wishes he were just here alone with Mulder. Hell, I wish I was alone with him here right now too. 

Walter is without the one he most wants to be with tonight. Holding and touching. Dennis and Phil obviously feel like it's unfair to show their affection in front of him. Whether they are also reluctant to show PDA in front of me is a moot point.

Walter picks up on it though. He's always been a good field agent. When it comes to other people he's good at reading them. Well except when they're trying to pay him a compliment. But otherwise you can't get over on him very easily at all. Ask Mulder. He still tries all the time. In a teasing sort of way.

"You know, you guys can move closer. I'm not going to go all Nelly on you here if you show a little affection for each other," he growls, taking a small sip of his brandy.

He runs it around inside his mouth and then swallows. In the firelight there's something very sensual about that action. It makes me feel suddenly warmer then just the warmth of the fire. It's just not my brandy. Well sure, he's attractive, sensuous sometimes. I'll be the first to admit that Walter's a hunk. Like I said - he's ok to look at. I mean I am a woman. And I'm not blind. I almost giggle a little, but luckily Walter is speaking again so I pick my mind up out of the gutter of unlikely possibilities and listen.

"Fine brandy," he nods at them to temper his earlier words.

"Sorry Walter. We didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I mean this is kind of...well..."

"Look, it's awkward I know. I'm missing him, all right. I'm missing him so bad I feel sick. There I said it. It's out in the open, all right?" he blurts out. Then he looks down.

Oh wonderful. I hope we aren't going to have a scene now. I was just starting to relax. To think we'd gotten past the danger point. 

"I'm...I'm sorry," Walter whispers, "That was very rude. You guys are being great hosts and this is the way I repay you? With rudeness? Christ." he shakes his head.

Then he looks up at me.

"I'm sorry, Scully. You shouldn't have had to hear that either." 

I look on in silence. I don't know what to say now. I'm not very good in emotionally charged scenes with Walter Skinner. Especially emotionally charged scenes regarding Mulder. I'm not very good with those with Mulder for heaven's sake. I sit and wait, hoping Phil or Dennis will jump into the fray here and save the day.

"WS - it's all right. Look, let's make a deal here, ok? Den and I...we'll just go ahead with business as usual if it makes you feel better. We'll just assume you want us to act normally and treat you normally too, ok? If anything makes you uncomfortable or upset just holler and we'll take that into account. I should say the same to you also, Dana. If you find anything...uncomfortable here - speak up. We don't want to offend. And you can't offend us. We've got pretty thick skins. How does that sound?"

I smile and nod over my brandy.

"Sounds fine." I murmur. I can feel my face redden a little. I'm glad it's rather shadowy in here.

Walter nods and lets out his breathe.

"I think it sounds more than fair, Phil. I...you're being pretty patient with me after this behavior."

Walter straightens then and I can almost see him bodily work to shake off the funk he's in. I had heard through the grapevine that Walter has seen Karen Kosseff for counseling on occasion. I can recognize some of Karen's breathing techniques right now. Walter is marshaling his resources to rein himself in. It's rather fascinating to observe. It's also a relief because...well mostly because he still makes me nervous when he's ready to fly off the handle. In a very short time he's more calm and outwardly - more convivial. He takes another sip of brandy and savors it. Of course the alcohol may be helping to mellow him as well. Good. I take another sip myself to steady my nerves.

"Oh, don't give it another thought, Walter. After all we know what a surly asshole you really are anyway," Dennis replies laconically. 

Walter chuckles.

"Yeah, I guess you guys do. Scully does too, right, *Agent* Scully?"

I see a touch of mischief in his eyes. Ok. No sir and agent hey!? Ha. All bets are off now Mr. Skinner, sir.

I grin at him.

"Well, I have a confession to make. I rather miss your tight ass on the job, sir, I..."

Before I realize what I said Phil is shaking with laughter. I look square at Walter, my hand coming up to cover my mouth. Oh oh. Who was saying the brandy was making who mellow? God! Walter's laughing too, but silently. He's shaking with it.

"Oh God! I meant to say I missed your hard-assed...Oh no! Forget it. Forget you heard that. I'm just digging myself in deeper."

All three of the men are laughing hard now and I take another sip of the brandy. I may be adding insult to injury but I really need it to steady my nerves now. Then I laugh as well. Ok, fine. Dana *Rosie O'Donnell* Scully to the rescue. If being the brunt of the joke smoothes things over I'll be more than happy to recite the best of Johnny Carson's monologues later to clear the air further.

Finally everyone starts to calm down. Walter manages a reply at last.

"Thank you, Scully. I get your point. I miss grilling you and Mulder on a spit too."

That renews the laughter for a moment. Then we all stop to regain our breath. When mine is sufficiently returned I speak, changing the subject adroitly.

"Dennis there's something I've been meaning to ask you."

"Yes?" Dennis replies raising a quizzical eyebrow. He and Phil have moved closer now, and Dennis has his arm around Phil's shoulder. 

"Was the house named *Dragon's Roost* before you bought it, or did you give it that name?"

"Den christened it *Dragon's Roost*," Phil replies, suppressing a yawn, "sorry, big meal," he grins looking over at his lover.

"Big eater," Dennis strokes Phil's arm, "But he's right I named the place."

"You still reading the Ann MaCaffrey books?" Walter asks from the other chair.

"Yes, and Anne Rice., Stephen King. Clive Barker."

"God, you are such a gore hound," Phil rolls his eyes.

"Hey, do I complain about your Barbara Cartland?"

"Oh oh, busted," Phil giggles, taking a drink of his brandy. Dennis drinks his as well. Phil's giggle makes him sound very much like Mulder. I can see Walter watching them. But he seems less tense. He's watching them with genuine, amused fondness. Maybe the brandy *is* really helping a lot after all.

"So you named the house after..."

"Anne MaCaffrey's Pern books. *The Dragonriders of Pern* idea." 

"Oh, I've seen those in the store. They look quite good."

"I'm into fantasy. SciFi. Horror."

/Just like Mulder. Oh Lord. Yes, Walter I miss him a lot too./

"My mother adores Stephen King's work. But if we're getting busted here for our guilty pleasures - I melt for Anne Rice."

"Really?" Dennis asks with excitement, "She's my favorite too. "Interview with a Vampire..."

"Oh yes..."

"Yeah, but the movie reeked." Walter chimes in.

"You saw the movie?" Phil asks with amused incredulity.

"Don't forget who I'm involved with gentleman. Monster boy Mulder got his nick for more than one reason. Yeah, he dragged me to that stinker. Blade was a hell of a lot better vampire flick than that bomb."

"Bomb?" I retort. "Brad Pitt was..."

"was ok. But Cruise was such a hopeless faggot in that film," Walter baits. Ok, how he's getting into it here. He's playing devils advocate.

"Den, Den, he used the *F* word..." Phil starts to laugh.

"Yeah well I can't stand Tom Cruise either. He was totally the wrong choice for Lestat."

"Oh, I can agree with that idea, yes," I nod, "But Brad Pitt was so good as Louis..."

"Neither one of them can hold a candle to Wesley Snipes," Walter growls. He's smiling, starting to enjoy himself again. Good. I'll say a few Hail Marys later.

"Oh yeah. Wesley Snipes. Now there is a magnificent hunk of masculinity," Phil trills.

"If you like taciturn, action heroes."

"Well of course I do. I adore WS," Phil giggles, making moony eyes in Walter's direction. Even Walter can't miss that bullet's trajectory.

"My ass..." he grates out, almost choking on his brandy.

"My point..." Phil retorts in a flash. Both Dennis and I are laughing.

"Well of course "Interview" is full of all that latent homeroticism," Dennis states, waving his glass airily.

"Ooh, let's hear it for Anne Rice," Phil teases.

"I'll agree there I guess..." Walter adds.

"You read Anne Rice!?" We all exclaim in unison.

"Well yeah. Sure. After I saw that awful movie I had to read the book to have some idea if she's a total hack or any kind of author." 

"Oh come on! Screen plays are never as good as the book," Dennis throws back.

"My God yes, look what they've done with Stephen King...." I add. 

And the debate goes on...

Later...

"Well I guess we'll agree to disagree, Dennis yawns. It's going on 11 PM now and all of us are fading fast. The work, and tension of the day coupled with the hearty meal making us all drowsy. Phil is asleep, his head resting on Dennis's shoulder. Dennis absentmindedly strokes his hair. Walter has slumped a little in his chair and has his long legs stretched way out in front of him. He took his work boots off earlier.

I've pulled my legs up under me on the chair and toed off my shoes as well. One good thing about being on the petite side. I can curl up almost anywhere and be comfortable.

All of us have finished our second brandies. It's about time for this agent to turn herself into a pumpkin here.

"Ok. I'll concede. Brad Pitt is a gay man's wet dream. But Wesley Snipes kicks ass and Tom Cruise sucks in the wrong way all together. Next debate?"

Dennis chuckles and I laugh as well.

"No more debates. I can never top this one," Dennis yawns. Then I yawn wide as well.

"Hey, we'd better hit the sack here," Walter observes, "we do have a work day tomorrow."

"I think we all ready lost, Phil," I observe with tenderness. In the short time I've been here I really like Phil. He reminds me a lot of Charles and Pendrell. Maybe I'll adopt him as an honorary Scully. Mom would love it and Bill would be livid. Ooh, now there is an idea. 

"Yeah. He never had a head for alcohol," Dennis replies quietly, kissing the top of his lover's head. Phil sighs and shifts against his chest.

"Den, did you turn out the light?"

We all laugh and then he wakes up.

"Oh! Sorry. God, how embarrassing," he grins sheepishly.

"It's ok, come on "Howdy Doody, we need to crash."

Walter guffaws at the allusion to Phil's red hair and freckles. 

"God, I hate that nick," Phil groans with no conviction at all. 

"Well that's what happens when your 40ish and freckled," Den smiles.

"Yeah...and it gets old," Phil grumbles, but not seriously.

"Oh sure, right. Come on sweetheart, we're out of here."

"Yes, your *Satanic Majesty*," Phil grins with mischief in his eyes.

They get up and make their way towards the stairs.

"Night all, sweet dreams," Phil calls after them.

"Night," Walter and I both reply in unison. Dennis and Phil climb up the stairs, Phil's arm around Dennis's waist.

Walter and I both watch them go. I remember that master bedroom up there. The bed is really big and very comfortable. A thought crosses my mind suddenly. I know Dennis and Phil put my luggage in the guest bedroom. Where is Walter going to....

"Well I...I'd better turn in too, Walter adds, getting up. Uh...if you'll excuse me, I need to pull out the couch."

"What?" I ask thickly. Couch? Oh...question answered I guess.

"Yeah, the couch is a bed. I'm going to sleep out here."

"No way, Walter, you couldn't possibly be comfortable out here." 

"I'll be fine. You...Dennis and Phil and I agreed you should have your privacy, Scully. All right? My clothes are in the hall closet. I'll manage. I mean let us be gentlemen here please?" he chuckles a little in self depreciation. Lord. Well it is kind of sweet. I suppose they don't want to be up running around with their morning hard-ons in their unmentionables and bed hair (ok, two of them there anyway), while I'm lying out here in the living room. It is considerate of them. I can't argue that.

"Well I feel kind of guilty about it, Walter but I'll bow to chivalry."

"Good. Now get to bed, Scully. When Dennis and Phil said they were going to work us tomorrow they weren't exaggerating," he gives me a flash of a grin.

I nod.

"It's going to be fun though," I smile shyly at him.

He smiles back showing a little teeth.

"Yeah, actually it will be." I notice him fingering whatever it is he has on that chain around his neck again. He's been doing it off and on all evening, almost unconsciously. Curiosity finally gets the better of me.

"Walter, can I ask you something before I turn in?"

He looks at me quizzically, "If it's first dibs on the bathroom in the morning - yes - you can have it first. That's part of my chivalrous nature this week as well."

I smile.

"No, not that. But I do appreciate the gesture as well. No, I...I'm just curious about what you keep touching under your shirt. Are you wearing a...a holy medal or something. I'm sorry, you don't have to tell me. I just noticed you kept touching it all evening." 

"Oh," he replies looking down at his chest. There's a look of soft sadness on his face for a second. The he shuts it off. Oh...maybe I've overstepped here...

"Yes. I...I do that with my cross a lot. It's unconscious behavior sometimes. It's ok. Just...you can forget I mentioned it. Good night Walter."

"No, it's ok, uh, here I'll show you," he replies quietly. He reaches around and pulls the chain up and out of his shirt. A medallion on the end of it falls onto his shirt front with a tiny sound of metal hitting cloth.

"Here, take a look," he says gazing into my face. His face is unreadable. I walk forward and cautiously pick the medallion up off his chest, pulling the chain tight. This close I can feel the heat radiating from him. Smell his cologne. Old Spice. I swallow hard and examine the medallion. It's an exquisite cross engraved in gold.

"Turn it over," he whispers.

There's Gaelic engraved on the back . I furrow my brow. Ok, the Gaelic comes to me slowly. I'm a bit rusty there. But it comes. When it hits me I breathe in sharply.

"Mulder gave this to you didn't he?"

"Yes, good guess. How did you know?"

I feel my mind move into agent mode. My emotions are very close to the surface. Jealousy roars into my heart. Mulder never gave me anything like this necklace! Oh God! So what!? The man traveled to the ends of the Earth to save my life for Christ sake. Almost died for me. We've almost died for each other more time than I can count. We watch each others back every other day on the job and never begrudge the duty. Every time I lie in his arms and we make love he comes, screaming my name. Material goods aren't everything. Besides he knows instinctually that I get embarrassed at obvious tokens of his affection. Those two little sets of earrings he gave me at Christmas made me blush so much! The orchid ones are so pretty, delicate. I won't tell you what we did after I wore those the last time. But I will tell you how much he said he loved me afterwards. And I know he means it. My God, do I ever!

I think of all these ideas and I work to banish my jealousy swiftly. It's rapidly replaced by real sadness at missing the object of my affection as well. Agent Scully mode mitigates the feelings of utter despair that I suddenly feel. Despair that neither of us will see Mulder this week at all. It hurts me. I know it hurts Walter too. No question I think, fingering the medallion. Running my finger over the words.

"Well , I can read Gaelic...a rusty interpretation at any rate...but the translation is pretty unmistakable in sentiment. This was given to you by someone who loves you deeply. I've never seen you wearing this before - toying with anything around your neck for that matter. Therefore...I'd guess it was Mulder, your most recent lover, who gave it to you."

"Very good, *Agent* Scully," Walter replies in a very quiet voice. I'm still holding the medallion. I can see his chest rise and fall with emotion. I won't look up into his face. I'm afraid what I may see.

"Walter, I...I'm glad you both found each other in Louisiana. I really am.

I feel him nod.

"Thank you Scully. It...Baton Rouge meant more to me then I can probably ever express."

"This is a beautiful gift," I add, releasing the medallion. It falls gently against his chest again. I finally look up at him.

"I gave him a friggin' watch," he shakes his head slightly and looking away, places the chain and medallion carefully under his shirt. I step back from him to give him his space. He smooths his shirt down and then moves towards the couch.

Watch? Walter gave Mulder that Rolex? Mother Mary. He's busying himself now, working to open the couch. I don't know what else to say. This is terribly awkward. Touching. I decide on the best course of action and follow it.

"Well, I'll let you get some sleep, Walter. Uh, good night."

"Sleep well, Scully. I'll see you in the morning."

He doesn't give me a second look as I leave his side, and head out of the living room, towards the guest bedroom, and my lonely bed. 

xXx

Saturday, May 22, 1999 5:45 AM. A bed and breakfast near Mount Holyoke College, Massachusetts.

I woke up screaming. Shit I hate this shit. I...I hate a VCS case with a passion. Nothing brings on the Samantha nightmares like profiling a stone cold maniac. This one will be no exception. My only hope is to get this sick monkey collared and in detention before he rapes and cuts or kills another young woman. And before I go stark, raving mad. I sigh, roll over and grab my watch off the night stand. Well shut my mouth, Mulder. At least I got one good thing out of the screaming meemies. I beat the alarm. I deactivate the alarm mode and when I do I stroke the watch once, very gently.

God. I miss Walter like hell. I miss Scully too. But every time I touch this watch I think of Walter and the night he gave it to me. My big sweet hunk. My love. To think he had the back engraved with this date I muse, turning over the Rolex again to look at the numerals on the underside. I feel my eyes grow moist. Baton Rouge. Our first time together and it meant so much to him he marked it in metal for us both. I still can't believe that idea. That it meant so much to him. That I mean so much to him. Jesus. I love him so much. I have to tell him how much this watch means to me too when we get back. I should show the back to Scully. God, I need to get something like that necklace for Scully too. I've given it a lot of thought. I mean she doesn't need another cross really. I'm thinking...maybe a ring. Oh hell that's....that's a challenging thought isn't it? I laugh a little. Ok, three rings. His and His and Hers. Imagine that scene at the jewelers. Oh Mulder, Mulder. Dream on. But I need to give a gift for Scully some thought in the future. After this...after Maine too. 

God Mulder get with the damn program here! I'd better get down to business. Agent Manconen will be here at 7 to get things underway. We're supposed to start victim interviews and visit the crime scenes on campus. I set my jaw and switch my mind back over to profiling mode. I become grim, determined, ready to rock and roll some perp's ass. I get up off the bed and hit the shower.

Later...

At five minutes to 7 , as I'm adjusting my tie in the mirror, there's a knock on my B&B rooms door.

"Just as sec," I call out. I just happened to notice I left the old barn door open. I reach down, zip up my fly and walk across to the door. I open it and give Agent Manconen of DC-VCS a terse nod. One of Burton's Brigade.

"Morning, Rita.

"Morning Mulder. You have breakfast yet?" she asks with a small smile.

Rita Manconen. One of the few African American women agents in VCS. She's slightly taller than Scully and a little larger boned. She's tough though, just like Scully. Has what it takes. When Burton introduced her I liked her almost immediately. I know we're going to work well with the locals here to solve this case.

"No, not yet," I return her smile.

"Ok, we just have time before our appointment with Conners of the Rape Task Force for a drive through breakfast. My treat. Mickie D's or do you have a preference?"

"If you're treating, surprise me," I chuckle.

"If I wanted to surprise you, I'd be taking you to Mama Sinclair's up here. She's got the best soul food in the area."

"A soul food restaurant with a drive through?" I reply, laughing. 

"Mama Sinclair has always been on the cusp of fashion, Mulder. She even has Internet access offered on PCs inside - and a web site now too."

"I have to see this place," I grin.

"It'll be my pleasure, Agent Mulder. You're one skinny white boy anyway. You need some good old fashioned Mama Sinclair Southern cooking to add some meat on those bones."

"Lead on, Agent Manconen. I bow to your knowledge of fine Southern cuisine."

She tilts her head back and laughs deeply. I know I'm going to like her. She can laugh at my jokes. Just kidding. No, I like her because she's a crack agent and she also knows this is going to be hell. The more we keep things light sometimes the longer we'll last. Rita turns, I collect my weapon, cell phone, other accouterments including my laptop and trench and we both exit the room, stomachs growling in unison.

xXx


End file.
